GLOI 


jyyT 

C  'Frederic  Turner 


GLORIA 


OF  CA1JF.  LIBRARY.  U>9 


"I've  got  some  sort  of  an  idea,"  he  said  at  length 

(page  122) 


GLORIA 


BY 


G.  FREDERIC  TURNER,  M.A. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  COLOUR 
BY  C.  M.  RELYEA 


NEW  YORK 

DODD,   MEAD   AND   COMPANY 
1910 


COPYRIGHT,  1910,  BY 
DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 

Published,  March,  1910 


CHAPTER  FACE 

I  THE  PATIENT  AND  His  DOCTOR     ...  1 

II  THE  CITY  OP  THE  PLAIN 13 

III  A  PROPOSITION 23 

IV  THE  THIERGARTEN 32 

V  THE  KING'S  CUP 40 

VI  "  WEIN,  WEIB,  UND  GESANG  "     .  52 

VII  CONFIDENCES  IN  A  WINE-SHOP    ....  69 

VIII  THE  BARGAIN 81 

IX  THE    KING'S   BREAKFAST 90 

X  A  SKI-ING  EXPEDITION 97 

XI  THE  IRON  MAIDEN Ill 

XII  THE  SIMPLE  POLICY 127 

XIII  ON  THE  WARPATH     .......  140 

XIV    MUSIC    AND    THE    MOB 147 

XV  THE  TEMPTATION  OF  ULRICH     .      .  .158 

XVI  KING  AND   CANAILLE 163 

XVII  "  CAPTAIN  "  TRAFFORD 176 

XVIII  THE    FIRST    COUNCIL 186 

XIX  THE   CHAPEL   ROYAL 197 

XX  BERNHARDT  DISTURBED 207 

XXI  DREAMS 213 

XXII  THE  WAR  ON  THE  WINE-SHOP      .      .      .  220 

XXIII  THE  "  BOB  "  RUN  233 


2133166 


vi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIV  RIVAL  INFLUENCES 249 

XXV  THE  OPENING  BARS 265 

XXVI  THE  PARLEY 273 

XXVII  TRAFFORD  AND  THE  TRENCH     ....  280 

XXVIII  MEYER  AT  WORK 288 

XXIX    NEWS    FROM   THE    CAPITAL 299 

XXX  RECRUITS 312 

XXXI  "A  SURPRISE"     ,.,    , 322 

XXXII  THE   CONQUERING   KING 332 

XXXIII  THE  LOST  SHEEP 345 

EPILOGUE     ...                                          ,.,  352 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  I've  got  some  sort  of  an  idea,"  he  said 

at  length   (page  122)  ....     Frontispiece 

"  The  lady  wants  to  be  seen  home — 

and  I'm  going  to  do  it  if  I  swing 

for  it ! " facing  page  66 

"  If  I  see  so  much  as  an  inch  of  blade, 

this    little    hand-grenade    of    mine 

will  play  havoc  with  your  hand- 
some features " 182 

"  I  drink  to  our  success  to-night,  I 

drink  to  the  devil  in  the  devil's  own 

tipple" "         "308 


CHAPTER   ONE 

THE    PATIENT    AND    HIS    DOCTOR 

CHRISTMAS  Eve  in  New  York !  Broadway  crowded  with 
happy  playgoers,  gay  promenaders,  and  belated  shop- 
pers !  Fifth  Avenue  resplendent  with  an  abundance  of 
commercially-conceived  festivity  in  the  overstocked 
windows  of  its  fashionable  shops!  In  other  and  less 
pretentious  localities,  gaunt  lines  of  assassinated  tur- 
keys exhibiting  their  sallow  nudities  in  indecent  pro- 
fusion to  a  steady  stream  of  ever-changing'  faces !  In 
short,  everywhere  throughout  the  big  city,  the  people 
holding  high  carnival — even  cynicism  forgetting  itself 
in  the  prospect  of  gallinaceous  food  and  crude  sweet- 
meats. And  Central  Park  West  and  the  Circle,  in  par- 
ticular, scintillating  with  electrical  display  and  wreaths 
of  red-ribboned  holly. 

In  the  New  Theatre  a  gala  performance  of  Antony 
and  Cleopatra  was  nearly  over;  the  last  lines  of  the 
tragedy  were  being  spoken.  Yet,  notwithstanding  the 
fact  that  in  another  moment  the  folds  of  the  red  velvet 
curtains  would  descend  on  the  Egyptian  scene,  an 
occupant  of  one  of  the  stalls,  no  longer  able  to  control 
his  impatience,  hastily  left  his  seat  and  started  up  the 
adjoining  aisle. 

To  say  that  this  young  man  gave  every  phy- 
siognomical indication  of  being  a  soul  in  distress  would 


2  GLORIA 

be  putting  it  not  a  bit  too  strongly.  Nor  would  it  have 
required  exceptionally  brilliant  intuitive  faculties  to 
conjecture  that  someone — presumably  in  a  box  across 
the  theatre,  on  which,  all  through  the  evening,  his  eyes 
had  been  riveted — had  shamelessly  robbed  him  of  his 
heart.  Moreover,  judging  from  his  evident  haste  and 
the  keen  anxiety  with  which  all  the  way  up  the  aisle 
he  followed  every  movement  of  the  parties  in  the  box, 
it  would  seem  that  he  had  determined  to  intercept  them 
on  their  way  out.  And,  indeed,  such  was  his  deter- 
mination. Life  had  concentrated  itself  into  a  question, 
of  hearing  from  the  lips  of  the  woman, — the  woman 
to  whom  he  had  offered,  and  who  had  refused,  the  wor- 
ship of  a  life, — a  word  that  he  could  interpret  as 
meaning  that  there  was  still  a  faint  possibility  of  her 
changing  her  mind. 

To  his  vexation,  however,  he  found  that  others  like- 
wise had  left  their  seats.  In  fact,  the  general  exodus 
had  already  set  in  before,  even,  he  had  reached  the  top 
of  the  aisle.  And  yet,  despite  his  being  thoroughly 
aware  that  any  attempt  to  pass  from  one  side  of  the 
house  to  the  other  was  sure  to  be  resented, — so  de- 
lirious is  the  haste  in  which  a  metropolitan  audience 
takes  leave  of  the  theatre  for  the  invariable  restaurant- 
supper  after  the  play, — he  continued  to  make  strenuous 
efforts  to  cut  his  way  through,  until  realising,  finally, 
that  it  was  useless,  he  let  himself  be  borne  along  by 
the  crowd.  But  his  chance  came  when  the  carriage- 
vestibule  on  Sixty-Fifth  Street  was  reached.  And 
there,  quick  to  take  advantage  of  an  almost  impercep- 
tible cessation  of  the  onward  movement — consequent 


THE   PATIENT   AND   HIS   DOCTOR        3 

upon  the  people  searching  the  ingeniously-devised 
board  to  ascertain  whether  the  desired  motors  or  car- 
riages headed  the  long  line — he  again  started  in  to 
elbow  his  way  through  the  crush;  and  so  successfully 
this  time  that  presently  comparatively  few  persons 
separated  him  from  an  undeniably  blond  and  dashing 
young  woman,  in  a  magnificent  opera-cloak  of  Russian 
sables,  who  was  laughing  and  chatting  with  half  a 
dozen  or  more  vapid  youths  while  following  the  lead 
of  a  portly  and  somewhat  red-faced  old  gentleman. 

Now,  though  unusual — for  want  of  a  better  word — 
as  was  the  young  man's  behaviour,  few  people  in  this 
scene  of  orderly  confusion,  babel  of  voices  and  distant 
humming  of  motors,  gave  more  than  momentary  at- 
tention to  it  except  the  young  woman's  escort.  To 
these  wondrous  wise  young  gentlemen,  however,  the 
meaning  of  his  frantic  exertions  to  reach  her  side  was 
all  too  plain,  no  less  her  feelings  towards  him;  and, 
exchanging  significant  glances,  they  began  to  nudge 
one  another  to  watch  for  the  denouement  of  the  little 
comedy  which  was  rapidly  developing  before  their  eyes. 

But  alas  for  the  futility  of  his  brave  resolu- 
tions .  .  ,.:  i! 

So  far  his  task  had  been  easy  enough.  But  at  the 
fateful  moment,  face  to  face  with  his  divinity,  and 
doubtless  for  the  first  time  perceiving  that  no  relent- 
ing glance  softened  the  faultless  contours  of  her  carven 
features,  that  no  spark  of  warmth  glinted  in  her  big, 
blue  eyes, — eyes  that,  on  the  contrary,  were  brimful  of 
scornful  laughter, — his  indomitable  spirit  failed  him 
utterly,  was  crushed,  for  once,  at  least,  and  he  stood 


4  GLORIA 

gaping  at  her,  to  everyone's  surprise,  more  like  a  coun- 
try yokel  than  the  man-of-the-world  that  he  undoubt- 
edly was.  For  the  briefest  of  intervals  he  remained 
thus.  And  then,  apparently  pulling  himself  together, 
he  suddenly  wheeled  round  on  his  heel,  and  shouldering 
his  way  through  the  press, — heedless  alike  of  a  friendly 
hail,  which  came  in  an  unmistakably  English  accent 
from  someone  back  in  the  crowd,  and  of  the  protesting 
looks,  if  not  words,  of  the  people  he  jostled, — he  left 
an  ostentatiously,  almost  vulgarly,  ornate  limousine  to 
slam  its  door  and  move  rapidly  away  with  its  fair  oc- 
cupant and  her  admirers. 

Into  Central  Park  West  the  young  man  turned  and 
walked  north.  Despite  a  heavy  fur  overcoat,  his  gait 
was  extraordinarily  fast,  and  his  face  appeared  white, 
almost  ghastly,  in  the  thin,  yellow  fog  that  was  push- 
ing its  way  under  his  eyelids,  into  the  penetralia  of 
nose  and  ears,  and  depositing  superfluous  matter  on 
his  lungs,  larynx,  and  reckless  expanse  of  linen.  A  few 
blocks  above  the  theatre  he  came  to  a  small  apartment- 
hotel,  mounted  at  a  run  to  the  first  floor,  and  quickly 
entering  the  sitting-room  of  the  suite,  he  carelessly 
tossed  his  irreproachable  high  hat  on  to  a  lounge. 
Then  he  went  over  to  a  window  and  stood  gazing  out  at 
the  sea  of  fog  before  drawing  the  curtain  against  the 
gamboge  of  the  December  evening.  And  his  coun- 
tenance was  at  once  savage  and  inexpressibly  sad. 

This  savageness  was  habitual,  the  resultant  of  bold 
features:  a  straight  nose  which  made  a  sharp  angle 
with  the  steep  brow,  bushy  eyebrows  and  a  wiry,  brush- 
backed  moustache  that  sprouted  aggressively  from  his 


THE    PATIENT   AND    HIS    DOCTOR        5 

upper  lip.  Strictly  speaking  it  was  not  a  handsome 
face,  though,  perhaps,  a  striking  one.  Nor  in  other 
respects  was  there  anything  remarkable  about  George 
Trafford — "  Nervy  "  Trafford  they  had  called  him  at 
Harvard,  and  the  appellation  had  always  clung  to  him. 
As  to  occupation  he  had  none.  Inheriting  a  modest 
fortune  at  an  early  age,  his  life  had  differed  little  from 
that  of  the  majority  of  young  Americans  in  like  cir- 
cumstances, if  we  except  the  fact  that — before  he  took 
up  the  difficult  task  of  killing  time — he  had  added  an 
Oxford  degree  to  that  of  Harvard. 

Throwing  off  his  coat,  Trafford  fumbled  in  his  waist- 
coat for  a  key.  A  moment  later  he  was  opening  a 
small  mahogany  medicine-cupboard  that  was  fixed 
against  the  wall  over  his  book-case.  His  searching 
hand  groped  about  in  its  recesses  and  then  brought 
out — something.  For  a  second  he  held  this  "  some- 
thing "  at  arms  length,  conning  it  with  curious  eyes, 
as  a  dilettante  might  study  a  precious  cameo,  or  a  bit 
of  rare  porcelain. 

Then  he  put  it  carefully  on  the  table.  The  electric 
light  shone  on  a  small,  compact  object,  dark  of  colour 
and  sinister  of  shape — a  revolver! 

Nervy  Trafford  took  pen  and  paper  and  wrote ;  and 
as  he  wrote  the  curious  light  grew  in  his  wild  eyes,  and 
a  sad  smile  played  about  his  sensitive  mouth. 

"  Dearest"  he  began : — "  You  say  you  can  never 
love  me.  I  say  that  I  can  never  cease  to  love  you. 
You  have  spoken  a  lie,  even  as  I  have  spoken  the  truth, 
for  when  the  mists  of  life  are  dispelled  by  the  glorious 
radiance  beyond  the  grave,  you  itM  love  me  as  I  love 


6  GLORIA 

you,  perfectly,  entirely,  with  the  triple  majesty  of  soul, 
mind  and  spirit.     Till  then,  farewell. 

Yours,  as  you  are  mine, 

GEORGE  TRAFFORD." 

Having  read  this  curious  epistle  twice,  he  put  it  in 
an  envelope  and  addressed  it  to  Miss  Angela  Knox, 
St.  Regis  Hotel.  A  moment  later  he  took  up  the 
object  from  the  table,  looking  into  vacancy  as  he 
did  so. 

So  this  was  to  be  his  end ! — an  ending,  he  well  knew, 
that  none  of  his  friends  had  ever  dreamed  of.  A  man 
on  whom  advice  was  thrown  away,  who  seldom  if  ever 
thought  twice,  in  other  words,  a  creature  of  impulse, 
yes — they  would  admit  all  that ;  but  on  the  other  hand 
would  they  not  recall  many  instances  of  his  extricating 
himself  from  tight  places  through  nothing  else  but  this 
very  impulsiveness  and  nerve  of  his?  Inevitably,  then, 
they  would  refuse  to  believe  that  a  man  like  that,  how- 
ever hopeless  his  infatuation,  would  take  his  own  life. 
All  of  which  merely  goes  to  show  how  ridiculous  it  is 
for  our  best  friends  to  scoff  at  the  notion  that  an  affair 
of  the  heart  may  be  taken  seriously. 

Trafford's  face  was  literally  bloodless;  his  pupils 
infinitesimal  black  dots,  gazing  searchingly  through 
the  walls  of  his  room  into  the  great  beyond,  where  all 
questions  are  answered,  all  doubts  set  at  rest.  For  a 
moment  he  stood  thus  in  vibrant  silence.  Then, — as 
if  his  mute  searching  had  received  its  dumb  response, 
' — his  lips  breathed  a  woman's  name,  the  muzzle  of  the 
revolver  was  raised  head  high,  there  was  a  click — and 
nothing  more  than  a  click! 

Trafford's  arm  fell  limp  to  his  side,  and  a  look  of 


THE   PATIENT   AND   HIS   DOCTOR        7 

sick  pain  shuddered  across  his  face.  Then,  an  idea,  a 
wafted  air  of  recollection,  fanned  the  light  of  under- 
standing into  his  dull  eyes.  A  ghost  of  a  smile  hovered 
at  the  corner  of  his  lips,  and  again  the  cold  hand  raised 
the  deadly  mechanism  to  his  pulsing  temple.  Even  as 
it  did  so  the  door  of  his  room  was  opened,  and  with 
a  gesture  of  annoyance  Trafford  tossed  the  unused 
weapon  on  to  the  table  and  facing  the  intruder  burst 
out  with: 

"  Who  on  earth " 

"  Hullo,  Nervy,  old  chap ! "  was  the  familiar  greet- 
ing that  came  from  a  big  and  genial  man,  clean-shaved, 
about  thirty  years  of  age,  and  dressed  seasonably  in  a 
Idark,  astrachan-trimmed  overcoat.  In  a  word,  the 
speaker  was  a  faultlessly  attired  Englishman,  whose 
great  frame  and  smiling  features  seemed  to  bring  into 
the  tragic  atmosphere  a  most  desirable  air  of  com- 
monplace. 

"Bob  Saunders!"  ejaculated  Trafford. 

"  The  same,"  affirmed  the  other,  throwing  off  his 
overcoat  and  sinking  lazily  into  the  most  comfort- 
able chair  he  could  find ;  "  Robert  Saunders,  old 
cricket  blue,  devoted  husband  of  a  peerless  wife,  the 
friend  of  kings  and  the  king  of  friends — voila!  " 

By  this  time  Trafford  had  composed  himself  suf- 
ficiently to  ask : 

"  What  in  the  deuce  are  you  doing  over  here?  How 
did  you  find " 

"  Been  camping  on  your  trail,  old  man, — as  you 
Yankees  say,"  interrupted  the  Englishman.  "  In  the 
first  place,  the  wife  and  I  have  been  doing  the  States. 
To-night,  as  we  were  leaving  the  New  Theatre,  I 


8  GLORIA 

caught  sight  of  you — sung  out  to  you — but  you  were 
off  like  a  shot.  I  put  Mrs.  Saunders — divine  crea- 
ture!— into  a  taxi  and  sent  her  to  the  hotel.  Then  I 
gave  chase.  I  tracked  you  here,  and  your  door  being 
open,  took  the  liberty  to  walk  in.  But  you  don't  look 
well,  old  chap ! "  he  went  on,  noticing  at  length  the 
exceptional  pallor  of  his  friend's  face.  "  You  look 
rotten!  What's  up,  Nervy?  Liver?  Money?" 

Trafford  pointed  silently  to  the  table;  at  the  sight 
of  the  revolver  Saunders'  face  grew  grave. 

"  As  bad  as  that  ?  "  he  asked.  He  was  genuinely 
shocked,  but  his  tone  was  commonplace,  almost  casual. 

"  As  bad  as  that,"  breathed  Trafford. 

Saunders  caught  sight  of  the  envelope,  glanced  at 
the  address  and  at  once  proceeded  to  open  it. 

"  Stop ! "  cried  Trafford  imperiously.  "  That  is  not 
for  your  eyes." 

"  Oh,  yes  it  is,"  returned  Saunders  bluntly,  extract- 
ing the  letter  from  its  envelope.  "  Sit  down,  sick  man, 
and  wait  until  I  have  diagnosed  your  case." 

Trafford  watched  the  Englishman  with  fascinated 
eyes.  In  his  hour  of  deep  darkness  this  smiling,  con- 
fident, almost  too  well-dressed  embodiment  of  pros- 
perity seemed  strangely  comforting  and  reposeful.  For 
the  briefest  of  moments  his  present  surroundings  were 
blotted  out,  and  his  mind  rushed  back  through  the 
intervening  years  to  the  glorious  days  when  they  were 
both  undergraduates  at  Oxford.  But  the  illusion  was 
of  short  duration,  the  awakening  bitter.  For  as  Saun- 
ders read,  a  smile  eloquent  of  contemptuous  astonish- 
ment spread  over  his  face. 


THE   PATIENT   AND   HIS   DOCTOR        9 

"  Angela  Knox ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  My  dear,  de- 
mented friend,  what  a  betisse!  " 

"  The  purest,  most  perfect  specimen  of  woman- 
hood  " 

"  Angela  Knox !  "  repeated  Saunders  cruelly.  "  Ye 
gods !  Oh,  yes,  I  know  the  lady.  We  met  her  at 
Newport — a  big,  buxom  blonde,  with  the  intellect  of 
a  sparrow.  Tissue,  tissue,  my  boy,  and  no  soul !  Fea- 
tures, millions  also,  I  concede,  but  no  sense  of  humour. 
In  six  weeks  she  would  bore  you;  in  six  months  you 
would  bore  her;  in  a  year  the  machinery  of  the  law — > 
your  obliging  American  divorce  courts " 

"  Silence !  "  roared  Trafford.  "  You  would  poke  fun 
at  the  holiest  corner  of  a  man's  heart.  I  tell  you,  Bob, 
I  so  love  this  woman  that  had  it  not  been  for  a  mir- 
acle, I  should  have  died  five  minutes  ago  with  her  name 
on  my  lips." 

"And  I'm  the  miracle?"  questioned  Saunders,  tap- 
ping himself  lightly  on  his  faultless  waistcoat. 

"  Miracle  number  two,"  replied  the  American,  sink- 
ing into  a  chair.  "  That  gun  was  kept  for  burglars. 
To  preclude  the  possibility  of  an  accident  through 
some  fool  of  a  servant's  mishandling,  I  kept  the  first 
chamber  empty.  Idiot  that  I  am! — I  forgot  the  pre- 
caution. But  a  second  and  doubtless  more  conclusive 
attempt  would  have  been  made  had  not  you  butted 
in " 

*'  And  for  Angela  Knox ! "  cried  Saunders  with  an 
unfeeling  grin.  "  Now  had  it  been  a  brunette " 

**  This  is  no  joking  matter.  For  Heaven's  sake,  do 
be  serious ! " 


10  GLORIA 

Saunders  brushed  a  speck  of  mud  off  his  patent- 
leather  boots. 

"  So  I'm  to  take  you  seriously,  Nervy?  Well,  then, 
listen,  my  dear,  irresponsible,  melodramatic  friend. 
Love  is  a  wonderful  thing.  It  is  rightly  considered 
the  beginning  and  the  end  of  all  things.  I  say  so, 
moi  qui  vous  parle,  though  I've  been  married  nearly 
two  years.  But  this  infatuation — this  calf-love  of 
yours  for  a  hypertrophied  blonde  with  the  conversa- 
tional powers  of  a  turnip,  is,  ipso  facto,  ridiculous. 
You  will  love  some  day,  friend  of  my  youth,  but  if 
your  love  is  unrequited  you  will  not  turn  to  the  re- 
volver for  solace." 

"What  are  you  letting  me  in  for?"  asked  the  be- 
wildered Trafford.  A  powerful  reaction  had  left  him 
weak — weak  in  voice  and  weak  in  spirit. 

"  I  mean,"  went  on  Saunders  with  slow  emphasis, 
"  that  if  you  demand  what  your  heart  really  desires 
and  the  response  is  '  no,'  you  will,  in  the  words  of  the 
prehistoric  doggerel,  try,  try  again.  Love  that  accepts 
defeat  is  an  unhealthy  passion ;  Love  that  tries  to  find 
relief  in  death  is  a  disease.  You  are  diseased,  cher  ami. 
Buck  up !  and  listen  to  the  words  of  your  good  doctor." 

"  I'm  listening,"  said  Trafford  somewhat  sheepishly. 

"  Good !  To  begin  with,  you  are  sound  physically. 
Muscles  firm,  energy  splendid,  and  your  tongue  would 
probably  shame  a  hot-house  geranium.  But  your 
psychic  self  is  out  of  gear.  Wheels  are  racing  in  your 
poor  old  brain!  Little  troubles  become  great  trag- 
edies !  Vital  things  seem  small  and  insignificant !  You 
need  a  potent  remedy." 


THE   PATIENT   AND   HIS   DOCTOR      11 

"  Let  it  come  over  speedy  then ! "  the  American  re- 
plied with  some  show  of  interest. 

For  a  moment  the  Englishman  looked  mystified. 
Presently  he  answered: 

"You  need  to  live  in  the  open — plenty  of  sunshine 
and  perfect  air." 

"  All  kibosh — buncombe !  "  broke  forth  Trafford  pet- 
ulantly. 

"  No,  not  buncombe,  but  Grimland — a  little  coun- 
try on  the  borders  of  Austria  and  Russia.  Visit  it," 
went  on  Saunders  in  rousing  tones.  "  Its  highlands 
furnish  the  finest  scenery  in  Europe.  The  air  of  its 
mountains  is  sparkling  champagne!  Its  skies  are 
purest  sapphire,  its  snows  whiter  than  sheets  of  finest 
lawn!  To  dwell  there  is  to  be  a  giant  refreshed  with 
wine,  a  sane  man  with  a  sane  mind,  and  a  proper  con- 
tempt for  amorous  contretemps.  Come,  pack  up  your 
traps  to-night  and  catch  the  Lusitania  to-morrow. 
What's  more,  I  do  not  advise,  I  command." 

The  American  appeared  half  persuaded  by  the 
other's  mastery.  He  sat  upright,  and  looked  more  or 
less  alive  again. 

"  But  I  should  be  bored  to  death,"  he  objected 
feebly. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it !  Why,  old  man,  you'll  forget  the 
very  meaning  of  the  word  boredom.  You're  a  skater? 
— well,  then,  why  not  enter  for  the  King's  Cup  which 
is  skated  for  on  the  King's  birthday — the  second  Sat- 
urday of  the  New  Year  at  Weidenbruck.  If  you're 
beaten,  as  is  probable, — for  the  Grimlanders  are  a  na- 
tion of  skaters, — there  is  tobogganing,  curling,  ski-ing 


12  GLORIA 

and  hockey-on-the-ice  to  engross  your  mind.  All  are 
exhilarating,  most  are  dangerous.  Furthermore,  you 
will  have  my  society — as  my  wife  and  I  will  be  guests 
of  King  Karl  at  the  Neptunberg.  However,  for  you, 
since  you  have  not  my  advantages,  I  recommend  the 
Hotel  Concordia.  You  will  sail  with  us  to-morrow?  " 
he  wound  up  confidently. 

Trafford  made  a  gesture  of  impatience. 

"  Honestly,"  he  said,  ignoring  the  question,  "  when 
the  hammer  of  that  gun  clicked  against  my  forehead, 
something  also  seemed  to  click  inside  my  brain.  Up 
to  that  point  I  had  love  framed  up  as  all  there  was 
to  this  world  and  the  next.  Now  I  feel  there  is  no 
meaning  in  anything." 

"  Wait  till  you've  got  a  pair  of  skates  on  your  feet 
and  the  breath  of  zero  air  in  your  nostrils !  Wait  till 
you've  had  a  toss  or  two  ski-ing,  and  a  spill  on  the 
*  Kastel '  toboggan  run !  There  will  be  meaning  enough 
in  things  then." 

"It's  a  go,  then!"  declared  Trafford,  but  without 
enthusiasm.  "  I'll  make  a  getaway." 

Saunders  rose,  a  look  of  genuine  relief  on  his  face. 

"  The  Lusitania  to-morrow,"  he  said  in  far  heartier 

tones  than  he  had  yet  employed.      "  Till  then " 

He  held  the  other's  hand  in  a  long  grip. 

"And  you  don't  balk  at  leaving  me  with  that?" 
Trafford  pointed  with  a  pale  smile  at  the  revolver  on 
the  table. 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  laughed  Saunders.  "  Take  it 
abroad  with  you.  Only,  get  out  of  the  habit  of  leav- 
ing the  first  chamber  empty.  Such  a  practice  might 
be  fatal  in  Grimland." 


CHAPTER    TWO 

THE    CITY    OF   THE    PLAIN 

"  I  CAN'T  see  that  this  is  such  a  vast  improvement  on 
little  old  New  York ! "  was  Traff ord's  growling  com- 
ment as  he  strolled  the  streets  of  Weidenbruck  the 
evening  of  his  arrival. 

"  Ah,  but  Weidenbruck  is  the  city  of  the  plain ! " 
returned  Saunders,  who  was  accompanying  him  in  his 
perambulations.  "  As  soon  as  this  skating  competi- 
tion is  over " 

"  It  will  be  back  to  Broadway  for  mine,  I  think!  " 
interrupted  the  American,  and  then  went  on  with  de- 
spondent logic :  "  If  it  is  cold  here,  what  will  it  be 
five  thousand  feet  higher  up?" 

"  Hot,"  retorted  the  other.  "  At  Weissheim  the  sun 
shines  unobscured  by  mist.  The  air  there  is  dry  and 
bracing.  The  thermometer  may  stand  at  zero,  but 
your  warm  gloves  will  be  a  mockery,  your  great  coat 
an  offence." 

A  gust  from  a  side  street  blew  a  whirl  of  powdered 
snow  in  the  faces  of  the  two  men.  Trafford  buried  his 
chin  in  the  warm  collar  of  his  overcoat ;  he  swore,  but 
without  undue  bitterness.  The  cold  indeed  was  poig- 
nant, for  the  unfrozen  flood  of  the  Niederkessel  lent  the 
atmosphere  a  touch  of  moisture  that  gave  malice  to  the 
shrill  frost,  a  penetrating  venom  to  the  spiteful  breeze 

13 


14  GLORIA 

that  swept  the  long  length  and  broad  breadth  of  the 
straight,  prosaic  Bahnofstrasse.  The  trams  that  rushed 
noisily  up  and  down  this  thoroughfare  were  the  only 
things  that  still  moved  on  wheels.  Cabs,  carriages, 
omnibuses,  perambulators  even,  had  discarded  wheels 
in  favour  of  runners ;  and  arc-lamps  shone  coldly  from 
an  interminable  line  of  iron  masts,  while  a  cheerier  glow 
blazed  from  the  windows  of  innumerable  shops  which  still 
displayed  their  attractive  wares  for  the  benefit  of  the 
good  citizens  of  Weidenbruck,  who  have  raised  the  sci- 
ence of  wrapping  up  to  the  level  of  a  fine  art. 

"  But  then  why  come  to  this  cellar  of  a  town  ? " 
grunted  Trafford. 

Saunders  shot  a  glance  at  his  companion.  He  was 
genuinely  fond  of  Trafford,  had  been  genuinely  shocked 
at  the  narrowness  of  his  escape  from  tragic  ruin,  and 
was  genuinely  glad  when  his  morbid  companion  began 
to  take  intelligent  interest  in  his  surroundings, — even 
though  that  interest  manifested  itself  in  irritable  com- 
ments and  deprecatory  grunts.  The  Englishman  had 
chaffed  the  would-be  suicide,  had  poured  cruel  scorn 
on  his  inamorata,  and  preached  the  cold  gospel  of 
worldliness  and  selfish  pleasure;  but  if  he  had  spoken 
cynically  it  had  been  because  cynicism  had  seemed  the 
right  remedy,  rather  than  because  his  own  nature  was 
bitter.  Beyond  having  a  rather  high  opinion  of  his 
own  abilities  and  a  predilection  for  new  clothes,  Saun- 
ders was  a  man  of  much  merit. 

"  Because  this  skating  competition  happens  to  be 
held  here,"  he  answered,  "  and  the  King's  Cup  is  the 
important  event  in  the  sporting  calendar  of  Grimland. 


THE    CITY   OF   THE   PLAIN  15 

The  winner — who  may  be  yourself — is  looked  upon  as 
a  king  among  men,  a  demi-god  to  be  honoured  with 
the  burnt  offerings  of  the  rich  and  the  bright  glances- 
of  the  fair." 

"  The  latter  I  can  dispense  with.  Cut  it  out !  "  the 
American  exclaimed  with  much  bitternes,  and  then  went 
on :  "I  did  not  come  to  Grimland  merely  for  sport, 
as  you  well  know,  but  because  you  hinted  at  political 
troubles.  Moreover,  I  have  taken  your  advice  literally, 
and  have  brought  my  gun  along." 

"  Keep  it  loaded  then,"  said  Saunders  curtly.  "  I 
hear  Father  Bernhardt  has  returned." 

"  Who  in  thunder  is  Father  Bernhardt  ?  " 

"  A  renegade  priest.  In  the  troubles  of  1904  he 
eloped  with  the  Queen,  who  had  been  plotting  her  hus- 
band's downfall  with  the  Schattenbergs." 

"  His  Majesty's  opposition,"  put  in  Trafford,  who 
knew  something  of  the  country's  turbid  history. 

"  Yes,  kinsmen  of  King  Karl's  who  have  always 
cherished  a  secret  claim  to  the  throne.  They  very 
nearly  made  their  claim  good,  too,  in  1904." 

"  Only  one  Robert  Saunders  intervened,"  interjected 
Trafford  with  an  envious  glance  at  his  companion. 

"  Providence  upheld  the  ruling  dynasty  with  a  firm 
hand,"  Saunders  went  on  to  explain,  "  and  the  rebel- 
lious family,  the  Schattenbergs,  were  pretty  well  wiped 
out  in  the  process.  Two  alone  survived: — Prince 
Stephan, — who  was  too  young  to  participate  in  the 
trouble,  and  who  subsequently  died  of  diphtheria  at 
Weissheim, — and  the  Princess  Gloria, — a  girl  of  one- 
and-twenty,  who  escaped  over  the  Austrian  frontier.'* 


16  GLORIA 

"  And  what  is  she  doing?  "  inquired  Trafford  with 
some  approach  to  curiosity. 

"  No  one  exactly  knows.  Unless  she  has  altered  in 
three  years,  she  is  a  beautiful  young  woman.  She  lives 
in  the  public  imagination  partly  because  she  is  a  pos- 
sible alternative  to  King  Karl,  who  has  the  demerit  of 
being  a  respectable  middle-aged  man.  If, — as  is  ru- 
moured,— she  is  in  alliance  with  Father  Bernhardt, 
there  will  certainly  be  trouble,  for  the  ex-priest  is  a 
man  of  energy  and  resource.  Moreover,  he  was  once 
a  religious  man,  and  believed  himself  damned  when  he 
ran  away  with  King  Karl's  fickle  consort ;  and  a  man 
who  is  looking  forward  to  eternal  damnation  is  as 
dangerous  in  his  way  as  a  Moslem  fanatic  seeking 
Paradise." 

Trafford  said  nothing,  but  breathed  a  silent  prayer 
that  the  renegade  priest  might  indeed  be  in  'Grimland. 
For  Trafford  was  one  of  those  curiously  constituted 
people — rarer  now  than  they  used  to  be — who  value 
excitement  without  counting  the  cost.  At  Oxford  he 
had  always  regarded  Saunders  with  a  deep,  if  unma- 
licious  envy.  The  Englishman  had  captured  the  high- 
est honours,  had  won  his  cricket  blue,  performing  prod- 
igies at  Lord's  before  enthusiastic  men  and  women; 
and,  later,  had  played  a  conspicuous,  almost  heroic, 
part  in  the  Grimland  troubles  of  1904.  On  the  other 
hand,  he,  Trafford — Nervy  Trafford — had  to  be  con- 
tent both  at  Harvard  and  Oxford  with  only  limited  ath- 
letic successes,  these  being  achieved  by  sheer  pluck  and 
infectious  energy.  But  men  had  always  loved  him,  for 
he  could  sing  a  rousing  song,  dance  a  spirited  war- 


THE    CITY  OF   THE   PLAIN  17 

dance,  and  kindle  bonfires  in  unexpected  places  with  the 
most  expensive  furniture.  In  a  word,  his  was  an  ar- 
dent, effervescent  nature,  and  now  that  the  tragedy  of 
a  tumultuous  but  misplaced  passion  had  robbed  life  of 
its  normal  interest  and  savour,  his  ideas  of  a  diverting 
holiday  were  of  a  distinctly  reckless  nature. 

Wandering  down  the  Bahnhofstrasse  they  purchased 
a  few  picture-postcards  at  a  stationer's,  a  meerschaum 
pipe  at  an  elegant  tobacconist's  where  they  sold  Ham- 
burg cigars  in  Havana  boxes,  and  finally  halted  be- 
fore a  big  corner  shop  'where  all  the  paraphernalia 
appertaining  to  winter  sports  were  displayed  in  inter- 
esting and  attractive  profusion. 

"  I  thought  you  had  a  good  pair  of  skates,"  said 
Saunders. 

"  So  I  have,"  returned  the  other.  "  But  there  are 
two  styles  of  skating,  the  English  and  the  continental; 
and  I  am  one  of  those  rarely  gifted  Americans  who  can 
skate  both  styles  equally  well, — a  fact  I  intend  to  take 
advantage  of  at  this  competition.  But  I  need  a  differ- 
ent pair  of  skates  for  each  style." 

"Do  you  think  you're  really  any  good?"  asked 
Saunders,  smiling.  He  was  accustomed  to  refer  to 
his  own  abilities  in  eulogistic  terms,  but  was  not  used 
to  his  companion  doing  so. 

"  If  you  were  to  ask  that  question  in  Onondaga, 
New  York,  U.  S.  A., — where  I  was  born  and  bred, — 
they'd  laugh  at  you,"  was  Trafford's  serious  reply. 

"  All  right,  let's  go  in  and  buy  something  from 
Frau  Krabb,"  said  Saunders,  leading  the  way  into  the 
shop. 


18  GLORIA 

Within  was  a  jumble  of  wooden  luges,  steel-framed 
toboggans,  and  granite  curling  stones;  from  the  low 
ceiling  hung  numberless  pairs  of  skis,  like  stalactites 
from  a  cavern  roof;  while  bunches  of  skates  adorned 
the  balusters  of  the  deep  staircase  leading  to  the  upper 
floor. 

Frau  Krabb,  the  proprietress,  was  being  accosted  by 
another  customer.  The  customer  in  question  was  a 
young  officer  in  the  shiny  shako  and  a  fine  fur-trimmed 
sur-coat  of  grey-blue,  frogged  with  black.  He  was  a 
sufficiently  attractive  object  in  his  picturesque  uniform, 
but  though  his  carriage  was  energetic  and  manly,  the 
face  that  showed  beneath  the  military  headgear  was 
by  no  means  that  of  a  typical  soldier.  It  was  a  dark, 
oval  face  with  a  wisp  of  a  black  moustache,  big  lustrous 
eyes,  and  a  small,  pretty  mouth,  adorned  with  the  whit- 
est and  most  regular  of  teeth.  It  was  a  proud,  sensi- 
tive face,  more  remarkable  for  its  beauty  than  its 
strength,  but  for  all  that,  good  to  behold  for  its 
intelligence,  refinement,  and  glow  of  youthful  health. 

"  Good-evening,  Frau  Krabb,"  began  the  soldier, 
genially  saluting.  "  Are  my  skates  ready  yet  ?  " 

"  They  were  ready  at  four  o'clock,  as  promised,  Herr 
Captain,"  replied  the  woman,  a  plump  person  with 
more  fat  than  features. 

The  Captain  passed  his  finger  critically  along  the 
edge  of  the  newly-ground  blades,  and  expressed  him- 
self satisfied. 

"  And  you  will  win  the  King's  Cup,  Herr  Captain, 
of  course?  "  continued  Frau  Krabb,  smiling  a  fat  smile 
into  her  customer's  face. 


THE    CITY   OF   THE   PLAIN  19 

"  I'm  going  to  have  a  good  try  at  it,"  was  the 
guarded  reply.  "  I'd  sooner  win  the  King's  Cup  than 
the  Colonelcy  of  the  Guides.  No  one  has  practised 
his  '  rocking  turns  '  and  *  counters '  so  assiduously  as 
I,  and  I'm  feeling  as  fit  as  a  fiddle — which  counts  for 
more  than  a  little  in  a  skating  competition." 

"  You  look  it,"  said  the  woman  admiringly. 

« I've  got  to  meet  Franz  Schmolder  of  Wurzdorf ," 
went  on  the  soldier  musingly,  "  and  Captain  Einstein 
of  the  14th,  so  it  does  not  do  to  be  too  confident. 
There's  an  American,  too,  competing;  but  I  don't  fear 
him.  He  doubtless  skates  only  in  the  English  fashion, 
and  their  style  of  skating  is  too  stiff  and  stilted  to  be 
of  any  use  in  elaborate  figures,  though  it  is  pretty 
enough  for  big,  simple  movements  and  combined  skat- 
ing. Schmolder's  the  man  I  fear,  though  Einstein's  a 
big  and  powerful  skater,  with  the  nerve  of  a  de- 
mon." 

"  Herr  Schmolder  has  a  strained  knee,"  said  the 
woman,  "  and  Captain  Einstein's  nerve  is  not  so  good 
as  it  was.  He  is  too  fond  of  Rhine  wine  and  Kirsch- 
wasser,  and  though  he  has  a  big  frame  it  is  not  full 
of  the  best  stuffing." 

"  I'd  like  to  win  better  than  anything  in  the  world," 
said  the  young  officer  in  tones  of  the  deepest  earnest- 
ness, his  eyes  lighting  up  wonderfully  at  the  golden 
prospect. 

"  You  will  win,"  said  Frau  Krabb  simply ;  "  I  have 
two  kronen  with  my  man  on  you,  and  you  have  my 
prayers." 

"  God  answer  them !  "  said  the  soldier  piously.    Then 


20  GLORIA 

in  a  moment  of  enthusiasm  he  bent  down  and  kissed  the 
comical  upturned  face  of  the  old  shopwoman.  "  Pray 
for  me  with  all  your  soul,"  he  said,  "  for  I  want  that 
cup,  Mother  of  Heaven !  I  must  have  that  cup."  And, 
slinging  his  skates  over  his  shoulder  the  officer  was 
about  to  leave  the  shop,  when  Saunders  accosted  him. 

"  Hullo,  Von  Hiigelweiler !  "  said  the  latter. 

The  soldier's  eyes  brightened  with  recognition.  He 
had  met  the  Englishman  at  Weissheim  a  few  years 
previously,  and  was  proud  of  the  acquaintance,  for 
Saunders  was  a  name  to  conjure  with  in  ,Grimland. 

"  Herr  Saunders !  "  he  cried,  "  I  am  charmed  to  meet 
you  again.  You  are  his  Majesty's  guest,  I  presume." 

"  I  am  at  the  Neptunburg,  yes.  Permit  me  to  pre- 
sent my  friend,  Herr  Trafford,  of  New  York.  Trafford, 
my  friend,  Ulrich  Salvator  von  Hiigelweiler,  Captain 
in  his  Majesty's  third  regiment  of  Guides." 

The  two  shook  hands. 

"  Delighted  to  make  your  acquaintance,"  said  the 
Grimlander.  "  But  what  are  you  requiring  at  Frau 
Krabb's?" 

"  Some  skates  for  to-morrow's  competition,"  replied 
Trafford. 

"Himmel!"  ejaculated  Hiigelweiler,  "so  you  are 
the  American  competitor.  You  had  better  not  ask  me 
to  choose  your  skates,  or  I  should  certainly  select  a 
faulty  pair." 

Trafford  laughed. 

"You  are  indeed  a  dangerous  rival,"  he  said. 

**  I  wish  to  succeed,"  said  the  soldier  simply.    "  Per- 


THE    CITY   OF   THE   PLAIN  21 

haps  success  means  more  to  me  than  to  you;  but  I 
don't  think  I  am  a  bad  sportsman." 

"  I  will  not  tempt  your  probity,"  said  Trafford. 
"  I  will  select  my  own  wares." 

Von  Hiigelweiler  waited  till  the  purchase  was  com- 
plete,— expressing  his  approval  of  the  other's  choice, — 
and  then  the  three  men  sallied  forth  into  the  nipping 
air  of  the  Bahnhofstrasse. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  asked  Saunders  of  the 
Grimlander. 

"  Back  to  barracks,"  replied  the  Captain.  "  Will 
you  accompany  me?35 

Saunders  consulted  his  watch. 

"  Trafford  and  I  are  dining  in  an  hour's  time,"  he 
said,  "  but  we  will  walk  part  of  the  way  with  you. 
I  wish  to  show  my  friend  a  bit  of  the  town." 

Turning  to  the  left,  they  entered  one  of  the  numer- 
ous lanes  which  proclaim  the  city's  antiquity  with 
gabled  front  and  mullioned  window.  Hi-lit,  ill-paved 
under  the  trampled  snow,  and  smelling  noticeably  of 
garlic,  bouillon,  and  worse,  thfe  thoroughfare — the 
Schugasse — led  to  the  spacious  Soldatenplatz,  wherein 
was  situated  the  fine  barracks  of  the  King's  Guides. 
They  had  been  walking  but  a  few  minutes,  when  a  tall 
figure,  heavily  muffled  in  a  black  coat,  strode  rapidly 
past  them.  Trafford  had  a  brief  vision  of  piercing 
eyes  shifting  furtively  under  a  woollen  cap,  as  the  man 
cast  a  lightning  glance  behind  him.  Then  as  the  figure 
vanished  abruptly  into  a  mean  doorway,  Saunders  and 
Von  Hiigelweiler  exchanged  glances. 


2%  GLORIA 

"  So  he  is  back,"  said  the  former.     "  Then  there  is 
certain  to  be  trouble." 

"  Nothing  is  more  certain,"  said  the  Captain  calmly* 
"  Who  is  back  ?  "  demanded  the  puzzled  Trafford. 
"  Father  Bernhardt,"  replied  his  friend. 
And  the  American  heaved  a  sigh  of  thankfulness. 


CHAPTER    THREE 

A    PROPOSITION 

WHEN  the  two  friends  left  him,  Captain  von  Htigel- 
weiler  fell  into  something  of  a  reverie.  He  had  told 
Frau  Krabb  that  he  desired  to  win  the  King's  Cup 
more  than  anything  on  earth.  That  was  not,  strictly 
speaking,  the  case,  for  there  was  one  thing  that  he 
desired  even  more  than  the  coveted  trophy  of  the  skat- 
ing rink.  Yet  that  thing  was  so  remote  from  reach 
that  it  was  more  of  a  regret  now  than  a  desire.  Years 
ago, — when  he  was  a  sub-lieutenant  stationed  at  Weiss- 
heim, — he  had  fallen  desperately  in  love  with  the  youth- 
ful Princess  Gloria  von  Schattenberg.  Her  high  spirits 
and  ever-ready  laughter  had  captivated  his  poetic  but 
somewhat  gloomy  temperament,  and  he  had  paid  her 
a  devotion  which  had  been  by  no  means  unreciprocated 
by  the  romantic  young  Princess.  And  the  courtship 
was  not  so  impossible  as  might  appear,  for  Ulrich  von 
Hiigelweiler  belonged  to  the  old  aristocracy  of  Grim- 
land,  and  his  father  owned  an  ancient  Schloss  of  con- 
siderable pretensions,  and  a  goodly  slice  of  valley,  vine- 
yards, and  pine  forests  fifty  miles  northwest  of  Weiden- 
bruck.  But  the  Princess's  father, — the  Grand  Duke 
Fritz, — was  an  ambitious  man,  already  seeing  himself 
on  the  throne  of  Grimland,  and  poor  Hugelweiler  had 
been  sent  about  his  business  with  great  celerity  and 
little  tact.  To  the  young  officer  the  blow  had  been  a 
crushing  one,  for  his  whole  heart  had  been  given,  his 

23 


24  GLORIA 

whole  soul  pledged,  to  the  vivacious  Princess,  and, — » 
though  years  had  rolled  by, — time  had  done  little  to 
soften  the  bitterness  of  his  deprivation.  To  his  credit, 
be  it  said,  that  he  had  never  sought  consolation  else- 
where ;  to  his  discredit,  that  he  regarded  his  misfortune 
as  a  personal  slight  on  the  part  of  a  malicious  and  ill- 
natured  fate.  For  his  was  a  self-centred  nature  that 
brooded  over  trouble,  never  suffering  a  bruise  to  fade 
or  a  healthy  scar  to  form  over  an  old  wound.  Even 
now  his  excitement  at  the  glorious  prospect  of  winning 
success  and  fame  on  the  skating  rink  was  marred  and 
clouded  by  the  hideous  possibility  of  defeat.  He  de- 
sired,— with  the  intense  desire  of  an  egotistical  mind, 
— to  win  the  Cup,  but  he  feared  to  lose  almost  more 
than  he  hoped  to  win. 

On  arriving  at  his  modest  quarters  in  the  huge 
building  in  the  Soldatenplatz,  the  Captain  was  sur- 
prised at  seeing  a  visitor  seated  and  awaiting  his  ar- 
rival. A  man  of  medium  height  was  reclining  comfort- 
ably in  his  big  armchair;  his  legs,  high-booted  and 
spurred,  were  thrust  out  in  negligent  repose,  an  eye- 
glass was  firmly  fixed  in  his  right  eye,  a  half-consumed 
cigarette  smouldered  beneath  his  coldly  smiling  lips. 
Von  Hiigelweiler  drew  himself  up  to  the  salute.  His 
visitor  was  no  less  a  personage  than  the  Commander- 
in-Chief  of  the  Army  of  Grimland,  General  Meyer,  the 
most  intimate  friend  of  his  Majesty  King  Karl. 

"  Your  cigarettes  are  excellent,  Captain,"  began  the 
General. 

Von  Hiigelweiler  regarded  the  cynical  Jewish  face  in 
silence.  General  Meyer  was  a  man  whom  few  under- 


A   PROPOSITION  25 

stood  and  many  feared.  The  greatcoat, — thrown  open 
at  the  breast, — half  revealed  a  number  of  famous  Or- 
ders, none  of  them  won  by  prowess  on  the  field  of 
battle.  The  spurred  boots  and  the  riding  whip  that 
occasionally  flicked  them  suggested  the  horseman, 
though  all  knew  that  General  Meyer  was  never  so  ill 
at  ease  as  when  on  horseback.  The  dreamy  eye,  the 
slothful  pose,  the  drawled  speech,  suggested  anything 
but  the  ruler  of  a  fiery  soldiery,  but  for  all  that  Meyer 
had  won  his  way  and  held  his  post  by  something  more 
formidable  than  a  courtly  tongue  and  a  capacity  for 
epigrammatic  badinage.  Those  who  served  Meyer  well 
were  served  well  in  return ;  those  who  flouted  the  Jew, — 
even  in  secret, — had  a  curious  habit  of  being  super- 
annuated at  an  early  period  in  their  career. 

"  Pray  be  seated,  Captain,"  pursued  the  visitor 
suavely. 

Von  Hiigelweiler  drew  up  a  chair,  and  sat  stiffly 
thereon,  awaiting  developments. 

"  You  are  competing  for  the  King's  prize  on  the 
Rundsee  to-morrow?  " 

"  Yes,  General." 

"Ah!     I  happen  to  be  judge  of  the  competition." 

To  this  the  Captain  offered  no  comment.  He  was 
wondering  what  on  earth  was  coming. 

"  You  are  exceedingly  keen,  of  course,  on  winning 
this  very  important  trophy  ?  "  pursued  the  elder  man, 
with  a  swift  glance. 

"  Yes,  General — exceedingly  keen,"  admitted  Von 
Hiigelweiler. 

"  As    a    lad,"    went    on    the    Commander-in-Chief 


26  GLORIA 

dreamily,  "  I  once  entered  an  examination  for  horse- 
manship at  the  military  school  at  Gleis.  My  uncle 
knew  the  officer  who  was  examining  the  candidates, 
and  thoughtfully  sent  him  a  dozen  of  champagne  and 
a  box  of  cigars  on  the  eve  of  the  examination.  The 
champagne  was, — if  I  mistake  not, — Perrier  Jouet  of 
a  vintage  year,  and  the  cigars  the  finest  that  are 
grown  in  the  island  of  Cuba.  I  was  not  a  particularly 
good  horseman  in  those  days,  but  I  passed  the  examina- 
tion— with  honours." 

The  Captain  received  the  information  in  stolid  si- 
lence. The  history  of  the  remote  and  somewhat  dis- 
graceful episode  did  not  particularly  interest  him.  The 
General  deposited  his  finished  cigarette  in  a  porcelain 
tray,  and  extracted  a  fresh  one  from  a  tin  box  on  the 
table. 

"  Your  cigarettes  are  really  excellent,  Captain,"  he 
mused.  "  Pray  keep  me  company." 

Von  Hiigelweiler  acceded  to  the  invitation. 

"  You  draw,  I  presume,  certain  inferences  from  the 
incident  I  have  just  mentioned?"  the  Commander-in- 
Chief  went  on. 

"No,  General." 

"  None  whatever?  '* 

Von  Hiigelweiler  smiled. 

"  None,"  he  said,  "  unless  you  suggest  that  I  should 
be  wise  to  send  you  a  ,dozen  of  champagne  and  a  box 
of  cigars." 

The  General  vouchsafed  no  answering  smile  to  his 
subordinate's  facetious  suggestion.  He  merely  shook 
his  head  in  pensive  silence. 


A   PROPOSITION  2T 

"  I  am  a  rich  man,"  he  said  insinuatingly,  "  and  my 
cellars  are  the  best  stocked  in  Weidenbruck — not  ex- 
cepting his  Majesty's.  You  cannot  help  me  that  way." 

Again  there  was  silence,  and  slowly  it  was  borne  in 
on  Von  Hiigelweiler  that  he  was  being  tempted.  The 
situation  horrified  him.  However  much  he  desired  to 
win  the  King's  Cup,  he  desired  to  win  it  fairly.  On 
the  other  hand,  he  neither  wished  to  offend  his  Com- 
mander-in-Chief  nor  ruin  his  prospects  of  success  in 
the  competition.  He  began  to  be  angry  with  Fate  for 
placing  him  in  a  dilemma,  before  he  knew  exactly  what 
the  dilemma  was. 

Suddenly  the  Commander-in-Chief  sat  bolt  upright, 
and  in  a  voice  of  great  earnestness  demanded : 

"  Von  Hiigelweiler,  do  you  know  that  there  is  a  fire- 
brand in  Weidenbruck?  " 

"  Weidenbruck  is  a  cold  place,  General,  but  it  usu- 
ally contains  a  firebrand  or  two." 

"  I  know ;  but  I  speak  of  no  common  incendiary. 
Father  Bernhardt  is  here." 

Von  Hiigelweiler  nodded. 

"  At  number  42,  Schugasse,"  he  supplemented. 

"You  know  that?"  demanded  the  General  eagerly. 

"  He  passed  me  a  quarter  of  an  hour  since.  He 
was  being  followed,  I  think." 

"  Good!  "  ejaculated  General  Meyer.  "I  want  him. 
Captain,  I  asked  you  just  now  if  you  wanted  to  win 
the  King's  prize.  I  learn  that  you  are  the  most  prom- 
ising competitor  for  this  important  affair.  The  winner 
of  the  King's  prize  is  sure  of  the  personal  interest  of 
his  Majesty.  Grimland, — especially  female  Grimland, 


28  GLORIA 

— loves  the  successful  athlete.  Official  Grimland  smiles 
on  him.  Skating  may  not  be  the  most  useful  accom- 
plishment for  a  soldier,  but  proficiency  in  sport  con- 
notes, at  any  rate,  physical  fitness  and  a  temperate 
life.  There  is  no  reason  why  you  should  not  gain  this 
trophy,  and  there  is  no  reason  why  the  gainer  should 
not  go  far." 

Von  Hiigelweiler's  dark  eyes  flamed  at  the  words, 
and  his  handsome,  sombre  face  glowed  involuntarily  at 
the  other's  suggestion. 

"  As  I  am  to  be  the  judge,"  continued  the  General 
calmly,  "  there  is  no  reason  why  your  victory  should 
not  be  a  foregone  conclusion." 

Slowly  the  Captain's  face  hardened  to  a  mask,  and 
his  eyes  became  points  of  steel. 

"  I  do  not  follow,  General,"  he  said  stiffly. 

"  You  are  a  shade  dense,  my  young  friend,"  said 
Meyer,  leaning  forward  and  tapping  the  other's  knee. 
"You  want  the  King's  prize;  I  want  the  King's  en- 
emy." 

"  But  I  cannot  give  him  to  you,"  protested  the  Cap- 
tain. 

"  You  know  where  he  is  housed ;  you  have  a  sword." 

"You  wish  me  to  effect  his  arrest,  General?  You 
have  but  to  command." 

"  I  do  not  desire  his  arrest  in  the  least,"  said  Gen- 
eral Meyer,  sighing  wearily  at  the  other's  non-com- 
prehension, and  reclining  again  in  the  depths  of  his 
arm-chair.  "  If  I  wished  his  arrest  I  should  go  to  Ser- 
geant Kummer  of  our  estimable  police  force.  Father 
Bernhardt  is  a  dangerous  man,  and  a  more  dangerous 


29 

man  arrested  than  at  large.  He  has  the  fatal  gift  of 
touching  the  popular  imagination.  The  ex-Queen  is  a 
woman  of  no  strength,  the  exiled  Princess  Gloria  is  but 
a  figure-head,  a  very  charming  figure-head  it  is  true, 
but  still  only  a  figure-head.  Father  Bernhardt  is  a 
soldier,  statesman,  and  priest  in  one  inflammatory 
whole.  He  has  a  tongue  of  fire,  a  genius  for  organisa- 
tion, the  reckless  devotion  of  an  ame  damnee.  His  ex- 
istence is  a  menace  to  my  royal  master  and  the  peace 
of  Grimland.  He  had  the  misfortune  to  cause  me  a 
sleepless  night  last  night.  Captain  von  Hiigelweiler,  I 
must  sleep  sound  to-night." 

The  Captain  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  If  you  give  your  orders,  General,  they  shall  be 
obeyed,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  that  bespoke  suppressed 
emotion. 

The  General  yawned  slightly,  and  then  contemplated 
his  companion  with  an  ingratiating  smile. 

"  My  dear  young  man,"  he  remarked  blandly,  "  for 
the  moment  I'm  not  a  general,  and  I  am  giving  no 
orders.  I  am  the  judge  of  the  skating  competition 
which  is  to  be  held  to-morrow,  and  in  order  that  I 
shall  be  able  to  do  full  justice  to  your  merits  it  is 
necessary  that  I  should  sleep  well  to-night.  Do  I 
make  my  meaning  clear?  " 

"  Diabolically  so,"  the  words  slipped  out  almost  in- 
voluntarily. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  Commander-in-Chief 
stiffly. 

But  Von  Hiigelweiler's  temper  was  roused.  He  had 
been  prepared,  if  necessary,  to  compromise  with  his 


30  GLORIA 

conscience.  He  had  argued, — with  the  easy  morality 
of  the  egotist, — that  he  probably  desired  the  King's 
prize  more  than  any  of  his  competitors,  and  probably 
deserved  it  more.  Had  Meyer  demanded  a  little  thing 
he  might  have  granted  it.  But  the  thing  asked  was 
not  little  to  a  sensitive  man  with  certain  honourable 
instincts. 

"  I  am  a  soldier,  General,"  he  declared,  "  and  I  am 
accustomed  to  accepting  orders,  not  suggestions.  If 
you  order  me  to  arrest  this  man  I  will  take  him  dead 
or  alive.  If  you  suggest  that  I  should  murder  him  as 
a  bribe  to  the  judge  of  this  skating  competition,  I 
refuse." 

Von  Hugelweiler's  words  rang  high,  and  it  was  plain 
that  his  indignation  was  perilously  near  mastering  his 
sense  of  discipline.  But  General  Meyer's  cynical  smile 
never  varied  a  hair's  breadth,  his  pose  never  lost  a 
particle  of  its  recumbent  indolence. 

"  Very  well,  Captain,"  he  said  at  length.  "  Then  I 
must  take  other  means.  Only  do  me  the  justice  of 
confessing  that  I  asked  a  favour  when  I  might  have 
commanded  a  service.  Remember  that  all  Grimlanders 
are  not  so  dainty  as  yourself,  and  remember  that  mur- 
der is  an  ugly  word. and  hardly  applicable  to  the  de- 
struction of  vermin.  If  this  cursed  priest  is  brought 
to  trial  there  will  be  trouble  in  the  city,  street-fighting 
perhaps,  in  the  narrow  lanes  round  the  cattle-market; 
any  way,  more  bloodshed  and  misery  than  would  be 
caused  by  an  infantry  sword  through  a  renegade's 
breast-bone." 

"  But  is  an  open  trial  a  necessity  ?  "  demanded  the 


A   PROPOSITION  31 

Captain,  his  anger  vanishing  in  the  chilling  certainty 
that  the  King's  prize  would  never  be  his. 

But  the  Commander-in-Chief  had  had  his  say. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  rising  to  his  feet,  "  if  you  will  not 
do  what  is  required,  someone  else  must.  No,  don't 
salute  me.  I'm  only  an  old  Jew.  Permit  me  to  honour 
myself  by  shaking  the  hand  of  an  honest  man." 

For  a  half-moment  the  generosity  of  the  words  re- 
kindled the  dying  hopes  in  the  Captain's  breast.  Gen- 
eral Meyer  was  a  strange  man — was  it  possible  that 
he  respected  scruples  he  did  not  himself  possess?  But 
as  Von  Hiigelweiler  gazed  into  the  old  Jew's  face,  and 
scanned  the  mocking  light  in  the  cold  eyes,  the  cynical 
smile  about  the  mobile  lips,  his  rising  hopes  were  suc- 
ceeded by  a  deeper,  deadlier  chill.  With  a  slight  shrug 
of  the  shoulders  and  a  smooth-spoken  "  Good-night, 
Captain,"  the  Commander-in-Chief  left  the  room. 

Von  H'iigelweiler  stood  gazing  at  the  closed  door  in 
silence.  Then  his  face  grew  dark,  and  he  shook  his 
fist  after  his  departed  visitor  with  a  gesture  of  un- 
controlled rage.  His  lips  twitched,  his  features  worked, 
and  then  covering  his  face  dramatically  with  his  hands, 
he  sank  into  a  chair.  For  a  bitterness,  totally  dispro- 
portionate to  his  worst  fears,  had  entered  his  childish 
heart. 


CHAPTER   FOUR 

THE    THIERGARTEN 

THE  competition  for  the  King's  Cup  had  no  terror  for 
Nervy  Trafford,  nor  did  the  fact  that  he  was  lament- 
ably short  of  practice  affect  his  peace  of  mind.  When 
a  man  has  lost  his  heart's  desire,  has  faced  the  barrel 
of  his  own  revolver,  the  prospect  of  gyrating  on  skates 
before  a  critical  audience  becomes  a  matter  of  casual 
importance.  When  he  left  Harvard — to  the  vast  re- 
gret of  his  fellow-undergraduates  and  the  infinite  relief 
of  the  much-enduring  dean — he  had  not  known  in  what 
direction  to  bend  his  superabundant  energies.  To  one 
who  had  an  innate  craving  for  an  electrically-charged 
atmosphere  and  the  employment  of  explosives,  and  who 
was  not  of  the  dollar-hunting  kind,  office  work  was  out 
of  the  question.  So  he  had  gone  to  Oxford.  But 
sport  there — the  sport  of  the  English  shires — was  too 
stereotyped  and  too  little  dangerous  to  appeal  to  his 
ardent  spirit.  Back  again  in  the  United  States,  he  had 
commenced  a  military  career,  but  it  is  a  platitude  that 
a  soldier  must  learn  to  obey  before  he  can  command; 
and  Trafford  had  stumbled  badly  on  the  lowest  rung  of 
the  military  ladder.  After  that  he  had  wandered.  He 
had  seen  men  and  cities,  and  had  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  there  was  only  one  city,  and  in  that  city 
but  one  person.  Whither  that  conclusion  had  led  him 
we  have  already  seen.  Briefly,  he  was  an  unsettled  and 
rather  a  dangerous  person  in  such  an  inflammatory 

32 


THE   THIERGARTEN  33 

country  as  he  was  now  visiting.  It  is  little  wonder, 
therefore,  that  the  competition  on  the  Rundsee  caused 
him  little  anxiety,  either  as  a  trial  of  nerves  or  as  a 
matter  of  vital  importance  in  his  cosmic  outlook. 

The  Rundsee,  where  the  contest  was  to  take  place, 
was  an  artificial  piece  of  water,  circular  of  shape,  situ- 
ated in  the  Thiergarten,  the  public  park  on  the  out- 
skirts of  Weidenbruck.  At  half-past  two  in  the  after- 
noon its  frozen  surface  was  crowded  with  a  vast  num- 
ber of  human  beings,  who  had  come  to  see  the  great 
annual  competition  for  the  King's  prize.  On  one  side 
a  big  pavilion,  garnished  with  small  flags  and  red 
cloth,  had  been  erected  for  the  benefit  of  the  King 
and  the  favoured  few.  The  majority  of  the  throng 
were  crowded  behind  ropes,  leaving  a  sufficient  area  for 
the  evolutions  of  the  competitors.  There  was  no  ques- 
tion of  the  ice  bearing  so  great  a  crowd,  for  the  ice 
of  the  Rundsee  was  as  hard  as  a  London  pavement, 
and  many  times  as  thick.  A  battery  of  elephant  guns 
would  have  traversed  it  without  inflicting  a  crack  on 
its  adamantine  surface. 

The  scene  was  a  gay  one,  for  the  winter  sun  had 
sucked  up  the  morning  mist  and  turned  the  dull  grey 
sky  to  turquoise,  and  the  snowy  covering  of  the  great 
trees  into  a  bejewelled  mantle  of  sparkling  purity.  A 
feeling  of  pent  expectancy  held  the  well-wrapped 
throng,  a  feeling  which  found  outlet  in  rousing  cheers 
when,  with  a  cracking  of  whips  and  jingling  of  bells, 
a  sleigh  and  four  horses  came  rapidly  down  a  broad 
avenue  and  halted  at  the  back  of  the  wooden  pavilion. 

It  was  the  King — King  Karl  XXII.,  fat,  smiling, 


34  GLORIA 

smoking,  wrapped  luxuriously  in  magnificent  furs,  and 
accompanied  by  his  favourites,  General  Meyer  and 
Robert  Saunders. 

The  Grimlanders, — to  do  them  justice, — never  re- 
ceived their  monarch  without  noise.  They  might  hoot 
or  they  might  cheer,  they  might  throw  garlands  of 
flowers  or  nitre-glycerine  bombs,  but  royalty  is  roy- 
alty, whether  its  representative  be  hero  or  villain,  and 
it  was  never  received  in  the  silence  of  indifference.  And 
at  the  present  moment  the  throng  was  benevolent.  The 
day  was  fine,  the  occasion  interesting,  and  in  the  love 
of  sport  the  Grimland  public  forgot  its  antipathy  to 
permanent  institutions. 

"  By  the  way,"  asked  the  King  of  General  Meyer, 
when  they  had  found  their  way  to  the  royal  enclosure 
overlooking  the  Rundsee,  "  did  you  secure  our  friend 
Bernhardt  last  night  ?  " 

General  Meyer  shook  his  head. 

"  We  had  a  failure,"  he  replied,  "  another  failure." 

The  King  received  the  news  without  any  outward 
sign  of  displeasure.  Only  one  who  knew  him  well 
would  have  read  the  deep  disappointment  of  his  placid 
silence. 

"  I  thought  you  had  discovered  where  he  lodged," 
he  said  at  length. 

"  I  had  discovered  the  fox's  earth,"  said  Meyer, 
"  but  my  hounds  had  not  strong  enough  teeth  to  in- 
convenience him.  I  approached  a  certain  Captain  of 
the  Guides,  a  young  man  of  good  family  and  approved 
courage.  I  offered  substantial  rewards,  but  the  work 
was  too  dirty  for  his  aristocratic  fingers." 


THE   THIERGARTEN  35 

"  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  wiser  to  have  ap- 
proached someone  of  humbler  birth,"  said  the  King 
drily. 

"  I  was  forced  to  that  conclusion  myself,"  sneered 
the  General,  "  and  I  requisitioned  the  services  of  two 
of  the  biggest  scoundrels  who  enjoy  the  privilege  of 
being  your  Majesty's  subjects.  Their  consciences  were 
un-tender,  but  they  failed,  as  canaille  will,  when  they 
come  to  hand-grips  with  a  brave  man." 

"  In  other  words,"  said  the  King,  "  two  armed  ruf- 
fians are  incapable  of  tackling  one  priest.  Next  time 
I  should  try  four." 

-  "  That  is  what  I  propose  doing  to-night,  sire,"  said 
the  General  impassively. 

The  King  turned  to  Saunders,  who  was  seated  on 
his  left. 

"What  does  the  Englishman  advise?"  he  asked. 

"  A  company  of  Guards  and  a  squadron  of  Dra- 
goons," said  Saunders  curtly. 

"An  open  arrest?  "  demanded  his  Majesty. 

**  Yes,  and  an  open  trial,"  affirmed  Saunders.  "  After 
all,  simplicity  has  its  charms,  and  Father  Bernhardt's 
popularity  is  so  great  that  it  can  hardly  be  enhanced 
by  a  visit  to  the  picturesque  prison  in  the  Cathedral 
Square." 

"  The  Straf eburg !  "  said  Meyer,  naming  the  prison 
in  question.  "  I  fear  the  good  citizens  might  essay  a 
rescue." 

"  They  certainly  would,"  conceded  Saunders,  "  but 
the  Strafeburg  was  not  erected  by  a  speculative  builder. 
It  is  made  of  stone,  not  papier-mache,  and  the  gentle- 


36  GLORIA 

men  who  keep  guard  over  it  are  not  armed  with  pea- 
shooters." 

The  General  nodded  sagely. 

"You  mean  you  would  risk  bringing  things  to  a 
head?  "  he  said. 

"  That  is  my  advice,"  said  Saunders.  "  I  have  only 
been  in  Weidenbruck  twenty-four  hours,  but  have  been 
here  long  enough  to  see  the  need  of  strong  measures." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  King  with  some  bitter- 
ness ;  "  the  woman  who  was  once  my  wife  and  who 
hates  me  more  than  anything  on  earth,  is  seen  at  large 
unmolested  in  my  capital.  The  Princess  Gloria, — a 
charming  young  lady,  who  would  like  to  see  me  guil- 
lotined in  order  that  she  may  sit  more  comfortably 
in  my  seat, — is  waiting  her  opportunity  to  cross  the 
frontier  and  take  up  her  quarters  here,  if  she  has  not 
done  so  already.  The  music-halls  resound  with  incen- 
,  diary  ditties !  There  is  one  in  particular,  the  Roth- 
lied, — a  catchy  melody  with  a  niost  inspiriting  refrain, 
— which  frankly  and  courageously  advocates  my  re- 
moval to  a  better  world.  I  am  a  patient  man,  God 
knows,  and  I  desire  peace  at  almost  any  price;  but 
there  are  limits  to  my  forbearance.  Yet,  when  I  put 
in  a  plea  for  action,  I  am  told  that  a  rash  step  would 
precipitate  a  revolution.  I  am  beginning  to  think  that 
my  friend  Saunders  here  is  my  best  counsellor,  and  that 
simplicity  is  the  best  policy." 

A  roar  of  cheering  from  the  crowd  betokened  the 
presence  of  the  competitors  on  the  ice.  General  Meyer 
rose  from  his  seat. 

"  The  best  policy  is  generally  simple,"  he  said,  "  and 


THE   THIERGARTEN  3? 

so  is  the  worst.  But  with  your  Majesty's  permission 
I  will  withdraw.  My  services  are  required  below." 

Hardly  had  Meyer  left  when  Mrs.  Saunders  was 
ushered  into  the  royal  enclosure.  She  was  a  tall,  fair 
woman  with  a  cold,  correct  profile  and  unemotional  grey 
eyes.  Her  manner  was  usually  reserved,  and  her  speech 
mocking.  She  possessed,  however,  a  keen,  if  caustic, 
sense  of  humour,  and  those  few  people  who  were 
privileged  to  know  her  well  were  wisely  proud  of  the 
privilege.  The  King  rose  from  his  chair,  his  gaze 
resting  admirably  on  the  tall,  athletic  figure  in  its  neat 
Chinchilla  coat  and  smart  fur  toque. 

"Enter  the  Ice  Queen!"  said  his  Majesty,  offering 
her  the  chair  vacated  by  the  Commander-in-Chief. 

"  Has  the  skating  begun?  "  the  lady  thus  addressed 
inquired  animatedly. 

"  Not  yet,"  her  husband  answered,  "  the  competitors 
are  having  a  little  preliminary  exercise  while  Meyer  is 
putting  on  his  skates.  But  you  come  at  an  opportune 
moment,  my  dear.  We  were  indulging  in  a  political 
discussion.  I  was  advocating  bold  measures ;  Meyer, 
masterly  inactivity.  I  desire  your  support  for  my 
arguments." 

"  Meyer  says  we  can't  trust  the  army,"  put  in  the 
King. 

"Of  course  you  can't  trust  the  army,"  said  Mrs. 
Saunders ;  "  for  it  is  not  commanded  by  a  soldier.  Gen- 
eral Meyer  is  an  excellent  judge  of  skating  and  cham- 
pagne, but  he  is  more  of  a  policeman  than  a  warrior. 
I  should  send  him  on  a  diplomatic  mission  to  a  remote 
country." 


38  GLORIA 

"  And  whom  would  you  make  Commander-in-Chief 
in  his  place  ?  "  asked  the  King  smiling. 

"  One  of  the  competitors  to-day." 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  the  King,  mystified.     "  Who?  " 

"  Why,  my  husband's  friend — George  Trafford,  the 
American ! " 

The  King  roared  with  laughter. 

"  Why  not  appoint  your  husband  to  the  post?  "  he 
demanded. 

"  Because  my  husband  has  a  young  and  beautiful 
wife,"  retorted  Mrs.  Saunders  smilingly. 

"Whereas  this  Mr.  Trafford ?" 

"  Is  a  broken-hearted  bachelor.  He  is  prepared  to 
seek  the  bubble  reputation  even  at  the  cannon's  mouth. 
He  has  more  imagination  than  Robert.  Besides,  I 
don't  mind  so  much  his  being  killed." 

Saunders  laughed  loudly,  while  the  King's  sunburned 
face  beamed  with  genuine  amusement. 

"  I  have  to  thank  Mrs.  Saunders  for  a  cheerful  mo- 
ment," he  said,  "  a  rare  thing  these  troublous  times. 
I'm  forty-five  years  of  age,  my  dear  lady,"  he  went 
on,  "  and  I've  been  on  the  throne  fifteen  years.  Some- 
times I  feel  as  if  I  had  reigned  as  long  as  Rameses  II., 
and  sometimes  I  feel  every  bit  as  old  and  dried-up  as 
that  mummied  old  gentleman  in  the  British  Museum. 
At  the  same  time,  as  you  see,  I  have  my  cheerful  mo- 
ments, and  in  those  cheerful  moments  I  see  Father 
Bernhardt  in  one  cell  of  the  Strafeburg  and  the  ex- 
Queen  in  another — the  latter  in  a  particularly  damp 
cell,  by  the  way." 

"  And  the  Princess  Gloria  von  Schattenberg?  "  asked 
Saunders. 


THE    THIERGARTEN  39 

"  Is  too  young  and  pretty  for  a  cell,"  replied  the 
King  with  a  smile.  "  She  is  popular  and  dangerous, 
but  I  have  a  soft  corner  in  my  heart  for  her.  I  must 
fight  her,  of  course,  if  she  persists,  but  I've  certain 
sunny  memories  of  a  little  girl  at  Weissheim,  all  fun 
and  laughter  and  enthusiasm  for  winter  games,  and  I 
find  it  hard  to  take  her  seriously  or  wish  her  harm. 
But  for  the  others,"  he  went  on,  hardening  his  voice, 
"  I'd  have  no  mercy.  They  are  playing  with  fire,  and 
they  are  old  enough  to  know  that  fire  burns.  Arrest 
them  openly,  I  say,  try  them  openly,  I  say,  and  if  the 
proletariat  objects — shoot  them  openly." 

"  Hear,  hear,"  said  Mrs.  Saunders  impassively,  put- 
ting up  her  glasses  and  studying  the  faces  of  the  dif- 
ferent competitors  on  the  Rundsee. 

"  Meyer  wants  one  more  chance  of  nobbling  Father 
Bernhardt,"  said  Saunders  in  a  low  voice. 

"  He  shall  have  it,"  said  the  King ;  "  and  I  hope 
and  pray  he  will  succeed.  That  priest's  the  heart  and 
soul  of  the  whole  trouble.  Once  he  is  safe  under  lock 
and  key,  where  can  the  Princess  Gloria  find  another 
with  such  cunning,  such  resource,  such  heedless  daring, 
to  fight  her  battles  and  build  her  up  a  throne?  Hullo, 
more  cheering!  What's  that  for?  Ah,  one  of  the 
competitors  doing  a  bit  of  fancy  skating  to  keep  him- 
self warm.  A  fine  skater,  too,  by  St.  Liedwi,*  a  pow- 
erful skater,  but  a  shade  reckless,  eh  ?  " 

"  That  is  our  friend,  George  Trafford,"  said  Saun- 
ders ;  "  a  fine  skater,  a  powerful  skater,  but,  as  you 
say,  distinctly  reckless." 
*The  patron  saint  of  skating. 


CHAPTER    FIVE 

THE  KING'S  CUP 

As  the  cheers  which  greeted  the  American's  essay  on 
the  Rundsee  died  down,  General  Meyer,  shod  with  a 
pair  of  high-laced  boots  fitted  with  fine  steel  blades,  sal- 
lied forth  to  the  ice,  and  shook  each  of  the  competitors 
in  turn  by  the  hand.  Von  Hiigelweiler  fancied  he  read 
malice  in  the  Commander-in-Chiefs  eye,  but  his  spirits 
had  sunk  too  low  to  be  further  depressed  by  such  omens 
of  his  imagination.  He  had  determined  to  go  through 
with  the  contest,  trusting  dimly  that  his  merits  might 
so  far  exceed  those  of  his  rivals  that  it  would  be  morally 
impossible  to  withhold  the  prize  from  him.  But  he  was 
anything  but  sanguine,  for  though  he  believed  himself 
the  best  skater  present,  he  felt  sure  that  both  his  coun- 
trymen would  run  him  close,  and  that  Meyer  would 
award  the  prize  to  anyone  but  himself,  if  he  could 
reasbnably  do  so. 

The  competition, — like  most  skating  competitions, 
— was  divided  into  two  parts.  In  t^e  first,  the  per- 
formers had  to  skate  in  turn  a  number  of  set  figures; 
in  the  second  they  had  to  skate  for  a  period  of  five 
minutes  any  figures  of  their  own  choosing.  In  one  im- 
portant respect  the  competition  differed  from  others 
held  on  the  Continent — it  was  not  held  under  the  aus- 
pices of  the  International  Skating  Union. 

It  is  generally  accepted  that  there  are  two  styles  of 
skating,  the  English  style  and  the  Continental,  or,  as 

40 


it  is  sometimes  termed,  the  International  style.  The 
characteristics  of  the  English  school  are  an  upright 
carriage,  a  straight  knee,  and  a  general  restraint  and 
rigidity  of  pose,  discountenancing  any  unnecessary 
movement  of  the  arms  or  the  unemployed  leg.  The 
Continental  style  is  skated  with  a  slightly  bent  knee, 
with  the  unemployed  leg  trailing  behind  the  body,  and 
considerable  gesticulation  of  the  arms.  The  expo- 
nents of  the  latter  claim  a  greater  gracefulness  of 
execution,  a  freer  and  more  beneficial  exercise  of  the 
muscles,  and  a  wider  scope  of  possible  'evolutions.  The 
[English  stylists  claim  dignity,  severity,  and  the  ca- 
pacity of  doing  difficult  things  without  apparent  effort. 
Both  have  their  merits  and  their  advocates, — but  it  is 
generally  accepted  that  to  skate  at  all  one  must  em- 
ploy one  of  these  two  distinct  methods, — and  prac- 
tically all  skating  competitions  are  held  under  the  aus- 
pices of  one  or  the  other  school.  In  Grimland,  how- 
ever, under  General  Meyer's  influence,  a  third  school 
had  arisen.  In  this  an  effort  had  been  made  to  com- 
bine the  speed  and  steadiness  of  the  English  skaters 
with  the  wonderful  scope  for  brilliant  and  daring  evo- 
lutions afforded  by  the  Continental  method.  In  Grim- 
land  competitions,  therefore,  marks  were  awarded  for 
the  scale  on  which  figures  were  described,  and  the  pace 
at  which  they  were  performed ;  while,  at  the  same  time, 
reward  was  offered  for  those  exhilarating  tours  de 
force  which  are  impossible  of  execution  under  English 
methods.  To  put  it  differently,  no  marks  were  awarded 
for  style  qua  style,  but  for  such  things  as  accuracy, 
speed,  boldness,  and  elegance,  quite  apart  from  the 


42  GLORIA 

mechanical  methods  by  which  such  excellences  were  at- 
tained. 

The  first  competitor  to  attempt  the  set  figures  was 
Herr  Franz  Schmolder, — a  lithe  little  athlete,  who 
skated  with  great  power  and-  elegance.  On  one  or  two 
occasions,  however,  he  failed  to  hold  his  edge  firmly 
after  a  difficult  turn,  and  it  was  obvious  to  Von  Hiigel- 
weiler  that  the  strained  knee  which  Frau  Krabb  had 
made  mention  of  was  bothering  him  more  than  a  little. 

Captain  Einstein  was  the  second  of  the  four  as- 
pirants, and  if, — as  Frau  Krabb  had  insinuated, — his 
big  frame  was  filled  with  an  undue  proportion  of  alco- 
holic nourishment,  it  did  not  seem  to  have  impaired 
his  "  back  brackets  "  or  spoiled  his  "  rocking  turns." 

"  There's  a  dash  about  that  fellow  that's  fine ! "  re- 
marked Trafford  to  Von  Hiigelweiler,  who  was  stand- 
ing near  him,  wrapped  during  inaction  in  a  big  mili- 
tary ulster. 

The  Captain  of  the  Guides  had  already  in  his  own 
mind  ruled  Schmolder  out  of  the  competition,  exag- 
gerating his  faults  to  himself  with  egotistical  over- 
keenness.  Einstein,  however,  was  skating  so  brilliantly 
that  Von  Hiigelweiler  was  beginning  to  experience  the 
deepest  anxiety  lest  he  should  prove  the  ultimate  win- 
ner of  the  coveted  trophy.  The  anxiety  indeed  was  so 
deep  that  he  refused  to  admit  it  even  to  himself. 

"  Wait  till  we  come  to  the  second  part  of  the  com- 
petition— the  free-skating,"  he  retorted.  "  Free-skat- 
ing requires  great  nerve,  great  endurance,  and  absolute 
fitness.  It  is  there  that  Einstein  will  fail." 

When  Einstein  had  finished  his  compulsory  figures 


THE   KING'S    CUP  43 

amid  a  round  of  applause,  Von  Hiigelweiler  slipped  off 
his  long  ulster.  For  a  moment  a  bad  attack  of  stage- 
fright  assailed  him, — for  there  is  nothing  quite  so  nerve- 
racking  as  a  skating  competition  before  a  critical  judge 
and  an  equally  critical  audience, — and  his  heart  was 
turned  to  water  and  his  knees  trembled  with  a  veritable 
ague ;  but  a  cheer  of  encouragement  restored  him  to 
himself,  and  he  struck  out  for  glory.  With  head  erect, 
expanded  chest,  arms  gracefully  disposed,  and  knee 
slightly  bent,  he  was  about  as  pretty  an  exponent  of 
Continental  skating  as  one  could  wish  to  see.  He 
travelled  rapidly  and  easily  on  a  firm  edge,  his  turns 
were  crispness  itself,  the  elegance  of  his  methods  was 
patent  to  the  least  initiated. 

General  Meyer  following  slowly  with  note-book  in 
hand,  smiled  appreciatively,  as  he  jotted  down  the 
marks  gained  from  time  to  time  by  his  brilliant  "  coun- 
ters," "  brackets,"  and  "  rocking  turns."  The  crowd 
roared  their  applause,  and  in  the  music  of  their  cheers, 
Von  Hiigelweiler's  depression  vanished,  and  his  heart 
sang  an  answering  paean  of  jubilee.  Like  most  nervous, 
self-centred  men,  he  most  excelled  before  an  audience 
when  once  the  initial  fear  had  worn  off.  And  now  he 
was  skating  as  he  had  never  skated  before,  with  a  dash, 
energy,  and  precision  that  drew  redoubled  cheers  from 
the  spectators  and  audible  applause  from  the  royal 
box.  Even  Meyer,  he  reflected,  with  all  his  malice, 
could  hardly  dare  to  give  another  the  prize  now;  to 
do  so  would  be  not  merely  to  violate  justice,  but  to 
insult  the  intelligence  of  every  man  and  woman  on 
the  ice. 


44  GLORIA 

At  the  conclusion  of  his  effort,  Trafford  congratu- 
lated the  Captain  warmly  on  his  performance.  Von 
Hiigelweiler's  dark  eyes  shone  bright  with  pleasure. 
Already  he  saw  himself  crowned  with  the  invisible 
laurels  of  undying  fame,  receiving  the  massive  silver 
trophy  from  the  royal  hands. 

"  Thanks,  my  American  friend,"  he  said,  heartily, 
"  go  on  and  prosper." 

With  a  few  bold  strokes  Trafford  started  on  his 
attempt  to  do  superbly  what  others  had  done  fault- 
lessly. His  style  instantly  arrested  attention.  Here 
was  no  lithe  figure  full  of  lissom  vitality  and  vibrant 
suppleness;  no  graceful  athlete  whose  arms  and  legs 
seemed  ever  ready  to  adopt  fresh  and  more  elegant 
poses.  But  here  was  an  exponent  of  the  ultra-English 
school,  a  rigid,  braced  figure  travelling  over  the  ice 
like  an  automaton  on  skates,  an  upright,  inflexible 
form,  sailing  along  on  a  perfect  edge  at  an  amazing 
speed,  with  a  look  of  easy  contempt  on  his  face  alike 
for  the  difficulties  of  his  art  and  the  opinion  of  his 
watchers. 

Ever  and  again  there  was  an  almost  imperceptible 
flick  of  the  ankle,  a  slight  shifting  of  the  angle  of  the 
shoulders,  and  some  difficult  turn  had  been  performed, 
and  he  was  travelling  away  in  a  slightly  different  di- 
rection at  a  slightly  increased  rate  of  speed.  The 
crowd  watched  intently,  but  with  little  applause.  They 
felt  that  it  was  wonderful,  but  they  did  not  particularly 
admire. 

To  Von  Hiigelweiler, — trained  as  he  was  in  the 
theory  and  practice  of  the  "  Continental "  school, — 
(the  performance  seemed  stiff  and  ugly. 


THE   KING'S    CUP  45 

"  Mein  Gott,"  cried  Einstein,  "  at  what  a  speed  he 
travels ! " 

"  He  wants  a  bigger  rink  than  the  Rundsee ! "  ex- 
claimed Schmolder.  "  A  man  like  that  should  have  the 
Arctic  Ocean  swept  for  him." 

Von  Hiigelweiler  was  less  complimentary. 

"  I  don't  think  we  need  fear  the  American,  my 
friends,"  he  said.  "  He  skates  his  figures  fast  and  big, 
but  with  the  grace  of  a  dummy.  Such  stiffness  is  an 
insult  to  the  Rundsee,  which  is  the  home  of  elegant 
skating.  See  with  what  a  frowning  face  General 
Meyer  follows  this  American  about ! " 

"  If  you  can  learn  anything  from  Meyer's  face," 
said  Captain  Einstein  drily,  "you  should  give  up  the 
army  and  go  in  for  diplomacy." 

"  Wait  till  he  comes  to  the  free-skating ! "  went  on 
Von  Hiigelweiler.  "  That  needs  a  man  with  joints  and 
ligaments — not  a  poker.  Our  friend  will  find  himself 
placed  last,  I  fear ;  and  I  am  sorry,  for  he  has  come  a 
long  way  for  his  skating,  and  he  seems  an  excellent 
fellow.  I  will  say  a  few  words  of  encouragement  to 
him." 

But  Trafford  had  just  then  momentarily  retired 
from  the  rink.  He  was  changing  his  skates  for  the 
pair  he  had  bought  at  Frau  Krabb's  the  previous 
evening. 

At  the  free-skating,  which  followed,  Franz  Schmol- 
der broke  down  altogether.  His  knee  failed  him  when 
he  had  performed  for  three  minutes  instead  of  the 
necessary  five.  Einstein,  who  followed,  did  well  up  to 
a  point.  But  five  minutes'  free-skating  is  a  fairly 
severe  test  of  condition,  and  the  big,  burly  soldier  did 


46  GLORIA 

not  finish  with  quite  the  dash  and  energy  he  had  begun 
with.  Von  Hiigelweiler,  however,  gave  another  splen- 
did display  of  effective  elegance,  and  again  drew  re- 
sounding cheers  for  his  vigorous  and  attractive  per- 
formance. He  himself  made  no  doubt  now  that  he  was 
virtually  the  winner  of  the  King's  Cup.  He  had 
worked  hard  for  his  success,  and  was  already  begin- 
ning to  feel  the  glow  that  comes  from  honourable  ef- 
fort generously  rewarded.  Meyer  would  doubtless  be 
sorry  to  have  to  place  him  first,  but  in  the  face  of  Ein- 
stein's and  Schmolder's  comparative  failure,  and  the 
American's  stiffness,  no  other  course  would  be  open  to 
him.  Von  Hiigelweiler,  however,  watched  Trafford's 
free-skating  with  interest,  dreading,  with  an  honest 
and  generous  dread,  lest  his  amiable  rival  should  dis- 
grace himself.  To  his  astonishment,  Trafford  was  no 
longer  a  petrified  piece  of  anatomy  skating  with  frozen 
arms  and  arthritic  legs.  He  beheld  instead  an  ex- 
ponent of  the  Continental  school,  who  seemed  to  have 
in  his  repertoire  a  whole  armoury  of  fanciful  figures 
and  astounding  tours  de  force.  Trafford  was  as  free 
and  unrestrained  now  as  he  had  been  severe  and  digni- 
fied before.  Graceful,  lissom,  filled  with  an  inexhaus- 
tible, superabundant  energy,  he  performed  prodigies 
of  whirling  intricacy,  dainty  pirouettings,  sudden  bold 
leaps,  swift  changes  of  edge,  all  with  such  masterful 
daring  and  complete  success  that  the  whole  ring  of 
spectators  cheered  itself  hoarse  with  enthusiasm. 

"  Bravo !  bravo ! "  cried  Von  Hiigelweiler,  clapping 
him  heartily  on  the  back  at  the  conclusion  of  his  ef- 
fort. "  It  is  good  to  see  skating  like  that !  If  you  had 


THE   KING'S    CUP  4T 

skated  the  preliminary  figures  with  the  same  zeal  you 
have  displayed  just  now,  we  Grimlanders  would  have 
to  deplore  the  departure  of  a  national  trophy  from  our 
native  land." 

Trafford  accepted  the  left-handed  compliment  in 
silence,  lighting  a  cigarette  while  General  Meyer  totted 
up  the  amount  of  marks  he  had  awarded  to  the  several 
competitors.  After  a  few  minutes'  calculation, — and 
after  his  figures  had  been  checked  by  a  secretary, — 
the  General  skated  back  to  the  front  of  the  royal  box 
and  announced  his  decision  to  the  King.  Then,  at  a 
word  from  his  Majesty,  a  gentleman  in  a  blue  and  yel- 
low uniform  placed  a  gigantic  megaphone  to  his  lips, 
and  turning  it  to  the  various  sections  of  the  crowd, 
announced : — 

"  The  King's  Prize :  the  winner  is  Herr  George 
Trafford;  second,  Captain  Ulrich  Salvator  von 
Hiigelweiler." 

The  American  received  the  announcement  with  com- 
plete outward  calmness.  And  yet  those  hoarsely  spoken 
words  had  touched  a  chord  in  his  heart  that  he  had 
believed  snapped  and  irrevocably  broken.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  lived,  for  a  moment  the  cheers  of  his  fellow 
men  had  galvanised  into  healthy  activity  the  dead  brain 
that  had  lost  interest  in  all  things  under  the  sun.  The 
success  itself  was  a  trivial  affair,  yet  in  a  magic  mo- 
ment he  had  become  reconciled  to  life  and  its  burden, 
vaguely  thankful  that  he  had  kept  the  first  barrel  of 
his  revolver  free  from  powder  and  ball. 

"  Congratulations,  Herr  Trafford,"  said  General 
Meyer,  who  now  approached  him  with  proffered  hand. 


48  GLORIA 

"  Escort  me,  I  beg,  to  his  Majesty,  who  will  present 
you  with  the  cup.  You  will  also  receive  a  royal  com- 
mand to  dine  to-morrow  night  at  the  Palace." 

"  Congratulations,  Herr  Trafford,"  said  another 
voice. 

Trafford  looked  round  and  beheld  the  competitor 
who  had  been  placed  second.  The  tone  of  the  felicita- 
tion was  one  of  undisguised  bitterness,  the  face  of  the 
speaker  was  the  ashen  face  of  a  cruelly  disappointed 
man.  And  Von  Hiigelweiler,  honestly  believing  him- 
self cheated  of  his  due, — and  not  bearing  to  see  an- 
other receive  the  prize  which  he  felt  should  have  been 
his, — slunk  from  the  scene  with  hate  and  misery  and  all 
uncharitableness  in  his  tortured  soul.  Then,  as  he  took 
off  his  skates,  the  cheering  broke  out  again,  and  told 
that  the  American  was  receiving  the  trophy  from  the 
King's  hand.  An  ejaculation  of  bitterness  and  wrath 
burst  from  his  lips. 

Hardly  had  he  breathed  his  angry  word  into  the 
frosty  air  when  a  small  hand  plucked  at  his  fur-lined 
coat,  and  looking  round  he  perceived  a  charming  little 
face  gazing  into  his  own. 

"  Why  so  cross,  Captain  ?  "  asked  the  interrupter 
of  his  execration. 

Captain  von  Hiigelweiler's  hand  went  up  to  the 
salute. 

"Your  Royal  High " 

"  Hush !  you  tactless  man,"  said  the  Princess  Gloria, 
for  it  was  no  other.  "  Do  you  want  to  have  me  ar- 
rested? For  the  sake  of  old  times,"  she  went  on,  put- 
ting her  arm  in  his,  "  I  claim  your  protection." 


THE   KING'S    CUP  49 

But  Hiigelweiler  had  not  thought  of  delivering  the 
exiled  Princess  to  the  authorities !  For  one  thing,  his 
mind  was  too  occupied  with  self-pity  to  have  room  for 
State  interests ;  secondly,  he  was  still  in  love  with  the 
fascinating  creature  who  looked  up  at  him  so  appeal- 
ingly,  that  he  would  sooner  have  killed  himself  than 
betrayed  the  appeal  of  those  wondrous  eyes. 

They  were  strolling  away  from  the  Rundsee  in  the 
direction  of  the  town,  and  a  straggling  multitude  of 
the  spectators  was  streaming  behind  them  in  the  snowy 
Thiergarten. 

Von  Hiigelweiler's  lips  trembled  a  little. 

"  It  is  good  to  see  you  again,  Princess,"  he  whis- 
pered. "  It  is  comforting,  just  when  I  need  comfort." 

"  Comfort !  "  echoed  his  companion  with  a  grimace. 
"  You  were  swearing,  Ulrich !  You  are  a  good  sports- 
man, you  should  take  defeat  with  better  grace." 

"  I  can  accept  open  defeat,  Princess,  like  a  man, 
though  I  had  set  my  heart  on  the  prize.  But  I  was 
not  fairly  beaten.  The  American  skated  his  figures 
as  ungracefully  as  they  could  be  skated." 

"  Why,  he  skated  marvellously,"  declared  the  Prin- 
cess enthusiastically.  "  I  never  saw  such  speed  and  dar- 
ing on  the  ice.  The  man  must  have  been  born  with 
skates  on.  I  never  saw  a  finer " 

"  Nonsense !  "  broke  in  the  irate  Captain,  forgetting 
both  manners  and  affection  in  the  extremity  of  his 
wrath.  "  He  won  because  General  Meyer  had  a  grudge 
against  me.  He  asked  me  last  night  to  do  a  dirty  piece 
of  work.  In  the  name  of  loyalty  he  wished  me  to  mur- 
der a  civilian ;  but  I  am  a  Von  Hiigelweiler,  not  an 


50  GLORIA 

assassin,  and  I  refused,  though  I  knew  that  by  so  doing 
I  was  ruining  my  chances  of  success  to-day." 

The  Princess  Gloria  pressed  his  arm  sympathetically. 

"  The  King's  service  frequently  involves  dirty  work," 
she  said,  looking  at  him  out  of  the  corner  of  her  eyes. 

"  So  it  appears !  " 

"  Why  not  embrace  a  service  that  calls  for  deeds  of 
valour,  and  leads  to  high  honour?  " 

Von  Hiigelweiler  looked  at  the  bright  young  face 
that  now  was  gazing  into  his  so  hopefully.  A  thousand 
memories  of  a  youthful  ardour,  born  amidst  the  suns 
and  snows  of  Weissheim,  rushed  into  his  kindling 
heart.  He  had  lost  the  King's  Cup ;  might  he  not  wipe 
out  the  bitter  memory  of  defeat  by  winning  something 
of  incomparably  greater  value?  There  was  a  price,  of 
course ;  there  always  was,  it  seemed.  Last  night  it  was 
_  the  honour  of  a  clean  man ;  to-day  it  was  loyalty  to  his 
King.  But  how  much  greater  the  present  bribe  than 
that  offered  by  the  Commander-in-Chief !  The  intoxi- 
cation of  desire  tempted  him,  tempted  him  all  the  more 
shrewdly  because  of  his  recent  depression.  What  had 
he  to  do  with  a  career  that  was  tainted  with  such  a  head 
as  the  scheming  Jew,  Meyer?  What  loyalty  did  he 
owe  to  a  man  served  by  such  officers  and  such  method 
as  was  Karl?  The  Princess's  eyes  repeated  their  ques- 
tion, and  their  silent  pleading  shook  him  as  no  words 
could  have  done. 

"  What  service  ?  "  he  asked  f  alteringly. 

"  My  service,"  was  the  hushed  retort. 

"  And  the  reward?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Honour." 


THE   KING'S    CUP  51 

"And—  love?" 

There  was  silence  momentary,  but  long  enough  for 
the  forging  of  a  lie. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  breathed,  looking  down  coquettishly. 

A  great  light  shone  in  the  Captain's  eyes,  and  the 
sombre  beauty  of  his  face  was  illumined  by  a  mighty 


"  Princess   Gloria?"  he  cried,  "  I  am  yours  to  the 
death!" 


CHAPTER    SIXTH 

"  WEIN,  WEIB,   UND    GESANG  " 

THAT  evening  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Robert  Saunders  were 
George  Trafford's  guests  in  a  private  room  of  the 
Hotel  Concordia.  In  the  centre  of  the  dining  table 
stood  a  big  silver  trophy  of  considerable  value  and 
questionable  design.  As  soon  as  the  soup  had  been 
served,  Trafford  solemnly  poured  out  the  contents  of 
a  champagne  bottle  into  its  capacious  depths.  He  then 
handed  it  to  Mrs.  Saunders. 

"  Felicitations,"  she  said,  taking  the  trophy  in  both 
hands.  "  I  drink  to  St.  Liedwi,  the  patron  saint  of 
skaters,  coupled  with  the  name  of  George  Trafford, 
winner  of  the  King's  Cup." 

Saunders  was  the  next  to  take  the  prize  in  his  hands. 

"I  drink  a  health  unto  their  Majesties,  King  Ed- 
ward of  England  and  King  Karl  of  Grimland,  and  to 
the  President  of  the  United  States,"  he  said;  and  then 
bowing  to  his  host,  "  Also  to  another  good  sportsman, 
one  Nervy  Trafford.  God  bless  'em  all !  " 

Trafford  received  the  cup  from  Saunders,  his  lips 
muttered  something  inaudible,  and  tossing  back  his 
head  he  drank  deep. 

"What  was  your  toast,  Mr.  Trafford?"  demanded 
Mrs.  Saunders  quietly. 

The  winner  of  the  cup  shook  his  head  sagely. 

"  That  is  a  secret,"  he  replied. 


«WEIN,   WEIB,   UND    GESANG"          53 

"  A  secret !  But  I  insist  upon  knowing,"  returned 
the  lady.  "  Tell  me,  what  was  your  toast?  " 

Trafford  hesitated  a  moment. 

"  I  toasted  '  Wein,  Weib,  und  GesangS  "  he  an- 
nounced at  length. 

"  Wine,  woman,  and  song ! "  repeated  Mrs.  Saun- 
ders. "  A  mere  abstract  toast,  which  you  would  have 
confessed  to  at  once.  Please  particularise?  " 

"  The  '  wine,'  "  said  Trafford,  "  is  the  wine  of  cham- 
pagne, which  we  drink  to-night,  '89  Cliquot.  '  Woman,' 
is  Eve  in  all  her  aspects  and  in  all  countries — Venus 
victrix,  sea-born  Aphrodite,  Astarte  of  the  Assyrians, 
Kali  of  the  Hindoos.  God  bless  her!  God  bless  all 
whom  she  loves  and  all  who  love  her ! " 

"  And  the  song  ?  "  demanded  Saunders. 

"  The  song  is  the  one  I  have  heard  one  hundred  and 
fifty  times  since  I  have  been  here,"  replied  Trafford. 
"  Its  title  is  unknown  to  me,  but  the  waiters  hum  it  in 
the  passages,  the  cabmen  chant  it  from  their  box  seats, 
the  street-boys  whistle  it  with  variations  in  the  Bahn- 
hofstrasse." 

"  That  sounds  like  the  Rothlied,"  said  Saunders. 
"  It  is  a  revolutionary  air." 

"  I  like  it  enormously,"  said  Trafford. 

"  Of  course  you  would,"  said  Saunders.  "  You  have 
the  true  Grimlander's  love  of  anarchy.  But  if  you 
wish',  we  will  subsequently  adjourn  to  the  Eden  Theatre 
of  Varieties  in  the  Karlstrasse.  I  am  told  that  the 
Rothlied  is  being  sung  there  by  a  beautiful  damsel  of 
the  aristocratic  name  of  Schmitt." 

"  I  have  seen  her  posters,"  said  Trafford,  "  and  I 


54  GLORIA 

should  like,  I  confess,  to  see  the  original.  But  what 
of  Mrs.  Saunders  ?  Is  the  '  Eden '  a  respectable  place 
of  entertainment?  " 

"  It  is  an  Eden  of  more  Adams  than  Eves,"  said 
Mrs.  Saunders.  "  No,  I  do  not  propose  to  follow  you 
into  its  smoky,  beer-laden  atmosphere.  I  am  going  to 
accompany  Frau  generalin  von  Bilderbaum  to  the 
opera  to  hear  '  La  Boheme.'  But  before  I  leave  I  want 
further  enlightenment  on  the  subject  of  your  toast. 
*  Wein '  is  all  right,  and  *  Gesang '  is  all  right,  but 
what  about  'Weib'?  I  thought  you  had  sworn  off 
the  sex." 

"  Sworn  off  the  sex ! — Never !  True,  I  offered  to  one 
individual  my  heart,  and  hand,  and  soul ;  but  the  indi- 
vidual deemed  the  offering  unsatisfactory.  I  now  offer 
to  the  whole  female  race  what  I  once  offered  to  one 
member  of  it." 

"  Polygamist !  "  laughed  Saunders. 

"  No,"  explained  Trafford,  "  it's  a  case  of  first 
come,  first  served." 

"  You  are  offering  your  heart  and  hand  and  soul 
to  the  first  eligible  maiden  who  crosses  your  pathP  " 
asked  Mrs.  Saunders,  with  upraised  brows. 

"  My  heart  and  hand,"  corrected  Trafford  with 
great  dignity. 

"  Come,  come,"  Saunders  broke  forth,  "  it's  time  we 
were  off!" 

The  auditorium  of  the  Eden  Theatre  was  a  long 
oblong  chamber,  with  a  crude  scheme  of  decoration, 
and  no  scheme  of  ventilation  worth  speaking  about. 


"WEIN,   WEIB,    UND    GESANG "          55 

It  possessed,  however,  a  good  orchestra,  an  excellent 
brew  of  lager  beer,  and  usually  presented  a  tolerably 
attractive  show  to  the  public  of  Weidenbruck.  For  the 
sum  of  four  kronen  per  head  Saunders  and  Trafford 
obtained  the  best  seats  in  the  building.  For  the  ex- 
penditure of  a  further  trivial  sum  they  obtained  long 
tumblers  of  the  world-famed  tigerbrdu. 

"  A  promising  show  this,"  said  Trafford,  lighting  a 
large  cigar.  An  exceedingly  plump  lady  in  magenta 
tights,  was  warbling  a  patriotic  ditty  to  the  tune  of 
"  Won't  you  come  home,  Bill  Bailey?  " 

"  More  quantity  than  quality,"  commented  Saun- 
ders cynically.  "  Personally, — not  being  possessed  of 
your  all-embracing  enthusiasm  for  womanhood  at  large, 
. — I  find  myself  looking  forward  to  the  next  item  on 
the  programme." 

"  What's  that  ?     The  *  Rothlied '  ?  " 

«  No,  Midgets." 

Trafford  uttered  an  exclamation  of  disgust. 

"  Little  things  amuse  little  minds,"  he  said  rudely. 
"  Give  me  a  strong  man  or  a  giant,  and  I  will  watch 
with  interest." 

At  this  point  the  curtain  descended  on  the  plump 
warbler,  and  a  powdered  attendant  in  plush  knicker- 
bockers removed  the  number  7  from  the  wings,  and  sub- 
stituted the  number  9. 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  the  midgets  yet,  after  all,"  said  Saun- 
ders, consulting  his  programme.  "  It's  the  Schone 
Fraulein  Schmitt — the  beautiful  Miss  Smith.  I  won- 
der if  she's  as  lovely  as  her  posters." 

As  the  curtain  drew  up  again,  a  young  girl  tripped 


66  GLORIA 

lightly  on  to  the  middle  of  the  stage,  and  it  was  at 
once  manifest  that  the  epithet  *'  schone  "  was  no  mere 
advertising  euphemism. 

Her  black  skirt  was  short,  her  black  bodice  low,  and 
her  black  picture  hat  exceedingly  large,  but  her  limbs 
were  shapely,  her  eyes  marvellously  bright  though 
small,  and  there  was  a  vivacity  and  grace  in  her  move- 
ments that  put  her  predecessor  to  shame.  When  she 
sang,  her  voice  proved  to  be  a  singularly  pure  soprano, 
and, — what  was  more  remarkable, — gave  evidence  of 
considerable  taste  and  sound  training.  The  song  was 
a  dainty  one,  all  about  a  young  lady  called  Nanette, 
who  conquered  all  hearts  till  she  met  someone  who  con- 
quered hers.  And  then,  of  course,  Nanette  lost  her 
art,  as  well  as  her  heart,  and  could  make  no  impression 
on  the  only  man  who  had  really  touched  the  deeps  of 
her  poor  little  soul.  The  last  verse,  naturally,  was 
a  tragedy, — the  usual  tragedy  of  the  smiling  face  and 
the  aching  bosom.  The  idea  was  not  exactly  a  novel 
one,  but  the  air  was  pretty,  and  the  singer's  person- 
ality won  a  big  success  from  the  commonplace  theme. 
Anyway,  the  audience  rose  to  her,  and  there  was  much 
clapping  of  hands,  clinking  of  beer  glasses,  and  gut- 
tural exclamations  of  enthusiasm. 

"  Bravo !  "  cried  Trafford  ecstatically,  "  Bravo ! 
Bravissimo!  Behold  an  artist  among  artistes,  a  fairy 
of  the  footlights!  Bravo!  Well  done,  beautiful  Miss 
Schmitt!" 

"  Charming,"  agreed  Saunders  more  calmly,  "  and, 
strangely  enough,  extraordinarily  like  a  young  lady  I 
met  a  few  years  ago." 


"WEIN,   WEIB,   UND   GESANG"         57 

"  Perhaps  it  is  the  young  lady,"  suggested  Trafford. 
'*  I  noticed  she  fixed  her  beady  black  eyes  on  you  dur- 
ing the  last  verse." 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Saunders  drily.  "  The  young 
lady  I  was  referring  to  was  a  somewhat  more  exalted 
personage  than  Fraulein  Schmitt." 

The  fascinating  songstress  re-appeared  for  her  en- 
core, and  this  time  the  orchestra  struck  up  a  martial 
air  with  a  good  deal  of  rolling  drums  in  it. 

"  My  *  Gesang,'  "  whispered  Trafford  excitedly. 

"  The  «  Rothlied,'  "  said  Saunders. 

Again  the  Fraulein  sang,  and  now  the  burthen  of 
her  song  was  of  battlefields  and  war's  alarms.  The 
tune  was  vastly  inspiriting,  and  the  audience  knew  it 
well,  taking  up  the  chorus  with  infectious  enthusiasm. 

"  It's  great !  "  muttered  Trafford,  twirling  excitedly 
at  his  moustaches.  "  By  the  living  Jingo,  it's  great !  " 

And  of  a  truth  the  air  was  an  intoxicating  one. 
There  was  gunpowder  in  it,  musketry  and  cold  steel, 
reckless  charges  and  stern  movements  of  advance.  One 
caught  the  thunder  of  hoofs  and  the  blare  of  bugles. 
Its  infection  became  imperious,  maddening  even, — for 
the  audience  forgot  their  pipes  and  their  tigerbrau, 
and  beat  time  to  the  insistent  rhythm,  till  the  chorus 
gave  them  a  chance  of  imparting  their  enthusiasm  to 
the  roaring  refrain.  The  girl  herself  seemed  the  em- 
bodiment of  martial  ardour.  She  trod  the  stage  like 
a  little  war-horse,  her  eye  sought  the  gallery  and 
struck  fire  from  the  beer-loving  bourgeoisie.  For  a  sec- 
ond her  gaze  seemed  to  fall  upon  Saunders  mockingly, 
and  with  an  air  of  challenge.  Then  she  glanced  round 


58  GLORIA 

the  crowded  house,  held  it  spellbound,  lifted  it  up,  car- 
ried it  to  high  regions  of  carnage,  self-sacrifice,  and 
glory.  The  audience  roared,  clapped,  screamed  with 
exuberant  acclaim.  Their  state  was  frenetique — no 
other  word,  French,  English,  or  German,  well  de- 
scribes it. 

"  By  George,  she's  a  witch!  "  said  Trafford.  "  She's 
as  dangerous  as  a  time  fuse.  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  don't 
want  to  fight  someone!" 

The  encore  verse  was  more  pointed,  more  sinister, 
less  general  in  its  application.  It  spoke  of  wrongs  to 
be  righted,  tyranny  to  be  overcome,  freedom  to  be 
gained.  It  hinted  of  an  uplifting  of  the  proletariat, 
of  armed  citizens  and  frenzied  women,  of  tumult  in 
square  and  street;  it  breathed  of  barricades  and  civic 
strife,  the  vast  upheaval  of  a  discontented  people  de- 
termined to  assert  their  rights.  Men  looked  at  each 
other  and  stirred  uneasily  in  their  seats,  and  then 
glanced  round  in  apprehension, — as  if  expecting  the 
entrance  of  the  police.  The  song  was  a  veritable  "  Mar- 
seillaise," a  trumpet  call  to  revolution,  a  match  in  a 
barrel  of  gunpowder ;  and  with  the  final  chorus  and  the 
stirring  swing  of  the  refrain,  all  remnants  of  prudence 
and  restraint  were  cast  to  the  winds.  The  house  rose 
en  masse;  men  mounted  their  seats  and  waved  sticks 
and  umbrellas  aloft ;  a  party  of  young  officers  drew 
their  swords  and  brandished  them  with  wild  insurgent 
cries.  Forbidden  names  were  spoken,  cheers  were  raised 
for  popular  outlaws  and  suspects,  groans  for  unpop- 
ular bureaucrats  and  the  King's  favourites.  It  was  an 
intoxicating  moment, — whatever  one's  sympathies 


«WEIN,   WEIB,   UND    GESANG  "          59 

might  be, — and  it  was  obvious  enough  that  the  temper 
of  the  people  was  frankly  revolutionary,  and  that  the 
authorities  would  be  quite  justified, — from  their  point 
of  view, — in  arresting  the  audience  and  the  manage- 
ment en  bloc. 

"  We'd  better  clear  out,"  suggested  Saunders ; 
"  there's  going  to  be  trouble." 

"  If  there's  a  row,"  announced  Trafford  grimly,  "  I'm 
going  to  be  in  it.  You've  seen  stirring  times  over  here 
before,  but  I'm  a  novice  at  it,  and  I  want  blooding. 
Shall  we  raise  three  cheers  for  Karl  and  fight  our  way 
out?" 

"  Not  if  you  want  to  keep  your  thick  skull  weather- 
proof," was  the  sensible  retort.  "  There's  always  dis- 
content in  Grimland,  but  there's  a  big  sea  running  just 
now,  and  it  isn't  wise  to  fight  the  elements.  Sit  tight, 
my  friend,  and  you'll  live  to  see  more  exciting  things 
than  a  noisy  night  at  the  Eden  Music-Hall." 

The  curtain  was  down  again  now,  but  the  audience 
still  roared  for  the  re-appearance  of  their  favourite, 
still  clamoured  for  another  verse  of  the  intoxicating 
song. 

"  Hullo !  what's  this?  "  cried  Trafford.  An  attend- 
ant had  edged  her  way  up  to  Saunders,  and  was  offer- 
ing him  a  folded  note  on  a  tray.  "  //  you  have  any 
pleasant  memories  of  the  winter  of  1904,  come  round  to 
the  stage  door  and  ask  for  Fraulein  Schmitt."  That 
was  the  purport  of  the  note,  and  after  reading  it, 
Saunders  handed  it  to  Trafford. 

"  Then  it  must  be  your  lady  friend,  after  all,"  main- 
tained the  latter,  smiling  at  his  friend. 


60  GLORIA 

"  It  must  indeed,"  acquiesced  Saunders  with  a  frown. 
"  Come  round  with  me  now." 

"  Why  not  go  by  yourself?  " 

"  Because  I  am  a  married  man,"  replied  Saunders, 
"  and  I  want  a  chaperon."  And  together  the  two 
men  left  the  still  noisy  house  and  made  their  way  to 
the  stage  door. 

Under  the  guidance  of  a  pale  youth  in  a  shabby 
pony  coat,  they  entered  a  gloomy  passage,  ascended  a 
steep  flight  of  stone  steps,  and  halted  before  a  door, 
which  had  once  been  painted  green. 

The  pale  one  knocked,  and  a  clear  musical  voice 
gave  the  necessary  permission  to  enter. 

A  naturally  bare  and  ugly  room  had  been  rendered 
attractive  by  a  big  stove,  several  comfortable  chairs, 
and  an  abundance  of  photographs,  unframed  sketches 
and  artistic  knick-knacks.  It  had  been  rendered  still 
more  attractive  by  the  presence  of  a  charming  young 
lady,  who  was  engaged — with  the  assistance  of  her 
dresser — in  removing  all  traces  of  "  make-up  "  from 
her  comely  lips  and  cheeks. 

The  lady  in  question  came  forward  with  an  air  of 
pleasurable  excitement,  and  smiling  a  warm  welcome  to 
the  Englishman,  cried: 

"  So  you  Tia've  come,  Herr  Saunders !  You  have 
not,  then,  altogether  forgotten  the  winter  of  1904?" 

Saunders  took  the  small  hand  which  had  been  ex- 
tended to  him  and  bowed  low  over  it. 

"  Heaven  forbid,  my  dear  Princess — or  must  I  call 
you  Fraulein  Schmitt,  now?  No,  indeed,  so  long  as  I 
have  memory  cells  and  the  power  to  consult  them,  I 


"WEIN,   WEIB,   UND    GESANG"          61 

shall  never  forget  the  winter  of  1904.  It  gave  me  an 
angel  for  a  wife,  a  king  for  a  friend,  and — must  I  say 
it — a  princess  for  an  enemy.  That  fierce  enmity!  It 
is  by  no  means  my  least  pleasurable  remembrance. 
There  was  so  much  fun  in  it,  such  irresponsible  laugh- 
ter, that  it  all  seems  now  more  like  the  struggle  of 
children  for  a  toy  castle  than  anything  else." 

"  Ah,  but  you  forget  that  I  lost  a  dear  father  and 
a  loved  brother  in  the  struggle  for  that  toy  castle ! " 
There  was  almost  a  life-time  of  sorrow  in  the  young 
girl's  voice. 

Again  Saunders  bent  his  head. 

"  Pardon  me,  Princess,"  he  said,  "  I  did  not  forget 
that,  nor  the  fact  that  you  nearly  lost  your  life,  and 
I  mine.  But  my  memory  loves  rather  to  linger  on  the 
bob-sleighing  excursions,  the  tea-fights  at  Frau  Men- 
gler's,  the  frivolous  disputations  and  serious  frivolities 
— all  with  such  a  delicious  substratum  of  intrigue." 

"  You  have  a  convenient  memory,  mine  Herr,"  she 
said  quietly.  "  You  remember  the  bright  things,  you 
half  remember  the  grey,  the  black  you  entirely  forget." 

Saunders'  smile  faded,  for  there  was  still  a  touch  of 
sadness  in  the  girl's  words.  Under  the  circumstances 
it  was  not  unnatural,  but  he  thought  it  more  consid- 
erate to  keep  the  interview  from  developing  on  serious 
lines. 

"  The  art  of  living  is  to  choose  one's  memories,"  he 
said  lightly.  "  He  who  has-  conquered  his  thoughts, 
has  conquered  a  more  wonderful  country  than  Grim- 
land." 

"And  so  marriage  has  made  of  you  a  philosopher, 


62  GLORIA 

Herr  Saunders  ?  "  she  returned,  her  soft  lips  curling  a 
trifle  contemptuously.  "  Well,  perhaps  you  are  right 
— if  we  take  life  as  a  jest,  death,  then,  is  only  the 
peal  of  laughter  that  follows  the  jest."  And  then, 
turning  to  the  American,  she  chided  Saunders  with: 
"  But  you  have  not  presented  your  friend ! " 

"  I  must  again  crave  pardon — I  had  quite  forgotten 
him,"  apologised  Saunders.  "  Your  Highness,  may  I 
present  my  very  good  friend,  Mr.  George  Trafford  of 
New  York — the  winner  of  the  King's  Cup." 

The  American  bowed  low  before  this  exquisite  crea- 
ture; then  uplifting  his  head  and  shoulders  and  twirl- 
ing his  moustache — a  habit  he  had  when  his  emotions 
were  at  all  stirred — he  asked  with  true  American  di- 
rectness : 

"  Am  I  speaking  to  a  princess  of  the  blood  royal 
or  to  a  princess  of  song?  " 

The  princess  and  the  Englishman  quickly  exchanged 
amused  glances,  and  a  moment  later  there  came  from 
the  girl  a  ringing  laugh,  a  delightful  laugh  bubbling 
over  with  humour,  with  not  a  hint  of  the  sorrow  or 
the  bitterness  of  a  few  moments  before,  while  Saunders 
hastened  to  say: 

"  Both,  my  American  friend !  You  are  addressing 
the  high-born  Princess  Gloria  von  Schattenberg,  cousin 
to  his  Majesty  King  Karl  of  Grimland!" 

"  Then  I  congratulate  the  high-born  princess  less 
on  her  high  birth  than  on  her  inimitable  gift  of  song," 
said  the  American  gallantly. 

The  Princess  acknowledged  the  felicitation  with  a 
bewitching  smile. 


"WEIN,   WEIB,    UND    GESANG"          63 

"  Thank  you,  Herr  TrafFord,"  she  said  simply.  "  It 
is  better  to  be  a  music-hall  star  in  the  ascendant  than 
a  princess  in  exile — it  is  far  more  profitable,  isn't  it?  " 
No  answer  was  expected,  and  in  a  trice  her  mood 
changed  again.  "  When  I  fled  the  country  three  years 
ago,  Herr  TrafFord,"  she  continued,  "  I  was  penniless 
— my  father  dead,  and  his  estates  confiscated.  True, 
an  allowance — a  mere  pittance — might  have  been  mine 
had  I  returned  and  bowed  the  knee  to  Karl."  She 
stopped,  her  feelings  seemingly  too  much  for  her;  in 
a  moment,  however,  she  had  mastered  them.  "  But  I 
was  a  Schattenberg ! "  she  cried,  with  a  little  toss  of 
her  head.  "  And  the  Schattenbergs — as  Herr  Saun- 
ders  will  testify — are  a  stiff-necked  race.  There  was 
nothing  to  be  done,"  she  went  on,  "  but  develop  the 
gifts  God  had  given  me.  Under  an  humble  nom  de 
guerre  I  have  achieved  notoriety  and  a  large  salary. 
Germany,  France,  Belgium,  I  have  toured  them  all — • 
and  my  incognito  has  never  been  pierced.  So  when 
I  got  hold  of  a  splendid  song  I  lost  no  time  in  has- 
tening to  Weidenbruck,  for  I  knew  it  would  go  like 
wildfire  here." 

"  A  most  dangerous  step."  The  comment  came 
from  the  American,  but  there  was  a  light  of  frank 
admiration  in  his  eye. 

"  Oh,  no ! "  she  protested,  a  faint  touch  of  colour 
in  her  cheek,  denoting  that  his  approving  glance  had 
not  escaped  her.  "  It  is  years  since  I  was  in  this 
place."  And  smiling  at  the  Englishman,  now,  she  added 
naively :  "  My  features  are  little  likely  to  be  recog- 
nised." 


64  GLORIA 

"  Indeed ! "  voiced  Saunders,  a  touch  of  satire  in  his 
tone.  "  Photographs  of  the  exiled  Princess  Gloria  are 
in  all  the  shop-windows,  her  personality  is  more  than  a 
tolerably  popular  one.  When  they  are  placed  in  con- 
junction with  those  of  the  equally  popular  Fraulein 
Schmitt,  will  not  people  talk?  " 

"  I  hope  they  will  do  more  than  that,"  confessed 
the  Princess,  growing  excited. 

"  You  want ?  » 

"  I  want  Grimland,"  interrupted  the  Princess ;  and 
added  loftily :  "  nothing  more  and  nothing  less.  You 
will  have  me  arrested?  " 

"  Not  yet ! "  declared  Saunders  with  his  brightest 
smile.  "  The  night  is  cold — your  dressing-room  is  cosy. 
No,  my  fascinating,  and  revolutionary  young  lady,  the 
truce  between  us  has  been  so  long  unbroken  that  I 
cannot  rush  into  hostilities  in  this  way.  Besides,  we 
are  not  now  in  1904,  and " 

"  Oh,  for  1904 ! "  cried  the  Princess,  her  eyes  ablaze 
with  the  light  of  enthusiasm.  "  Oh,  for  the  sweets  of 
popularity,  the  ecstasy  of  rousing  brave  men  and  turn- 
ing their  blood  to  wine  and  their  brains  to  fire!  I 
want  to  live,  to  rule,  to  be  obeyed  and  loved  as  a 
queen ! " 

In  an  instant  Trafford  felt  a  responsive  glow;  he 
started  to  speak  but  Saunders  already  was  speaking. 

"  Princess,"  the  Englishman  was  saying  coldly, 
"popularity  is  champagne  with  a  dash  of  brandy  in 
it.  It  is  a  splendid  pick-me-up.  It  dispels  ennui, 
migraine,  and  all  the  other  troubles  of  a  highly-strung, 
nervous  system.  Only,  it  is  not  what  medical  folk  call 


"WEIN,    WEIB,    UND    GESANG  "          65 

a  *  food.'  It  does  not  do  for  breakfast,  luncheon  and 
dinner.  After  a  time  it  sickens." 

"  Popularity — the  adulation  of  my  people  would 
never  pall  on  me,"  returned  the  Princess,  gazing  off 
for  the  moment,  absorbed  in  a  realm  of  dreams. 

"  No,  but  the  police  might  take  a  hand,"  intimated 
Saunders  grimly.  "  There  is  a  castle  at  Weidenbruck 
called  the  Strafeburg.  As  its  name  implies,  it  is  in- 
tended otherwise  than  as  a  pleasure  residence.  It  is 
a  picturesque  old  pile,  but,  curiously  enough,  the  archi- 
tect seems  to  have  neglected  the  important  require- 
ments of  light  and  air.  You  would  get  very  tired  of 
the  Strafeburg,  my  Princess !  " 

"  The  people  of  Paris  got  very  tired  of  the  Bastile," 
retorted  the  Princess  hotly  and  flashing  a  defiant  look 
at  the  Englishman.  Trafford's  hand  clinched  in  sym- 
pathy for  her.  Never  was  maid  so  splendidly  daring 
and  reckless  and  fascinating !  "  They  got  very  tired 
of  Louis  XVI.,"  the  voice  was  still  going  on,  "  and  the 
people  of  Weidenbruck  are  very  tired  of  the  Strafe- 
burg." 

To  Trafford's  astonishment  the  Princess's  eyes 
showed  danger  of  filling  upon  uttering  these  last  words. 
Her  perfect  mouth  quivered,  and  of  a  sudden,  she 
seemed  to  him  younger — certainly  not  more  than  nine- 
teen. Again  he  was  tempted  to  interfere  in  her  behalf, 
but  again  Saunders  was  before  him. 

"  They  got  tired  of  a  good  many  people  in  Paris," 
the  Englishman  said  slowly.  "  Ultimately,  even  of 
Mere  Guillotine.  But  supposing  this  country  rose, 
pulled  down  the  Strafeburg  and  other  interesting  relics, 


66  GLORIA 

and  decapitated  my  excellent  friend,  the  King;  sup- 
posing after  much  cutting  of  throats,  burning  of  build- 
ings, and  shootings  against  the  wall,  a  certain  young 
lady  became  Gloria  the  First  of  Grimland,  do  you  im- 
agine she  would  be  happy?  No — in  twelve  months  she 
would  be  bored  to  death  with  court  etiquette,  with  con- 
flicting advice,  and  the  servile  flattery  of  interested 
intriguers.  Believe  me,  she  is  far  happier  enchanting 
the  audiences  of  Belgium  and  Germany  than  she  would 
be  in  velvet  and  ermine  and  a  gold  crown  that  fell  off 
every  time  she  indulged  in  one  of  her  irresponsible  fits 
of  merriment." 

"  I  might  forget  to  laugh,"  said  the  Princess  sadly. 
"  But  no,  I  cannot,  will  not,  take  your  advice !  Do 
you  not  suppose  that  nature  intended  me  to  fill  a  loftier 
position  than  even  the  high  firmament  of  the  CafS 
Chantant?  No,  a  thousand  times  no,  Herr  Saunders 
— I  am  a  Schattenberg  and  I  mean  to  fight !  " 

The  American  could  not  restrain  himself  an  instant 
longer, 

"  Bravo ! "  burst  out  Trafford  enthusiastically. 
"  There's  a  ring  in  that  statement  that  warms  my  heart 
tremendously ! " 

A  swift  frown  clouded  Saunders'  brow.  It  was  plain 
to  see  that  the  Englishman  was  much  annoyed  at  the 
American's  outspoken  approval  of  the  Princess's  pur- 
pose; but  she  broke  into  the  laughter  of  a  mischief- 
loving  child. 

"  And  you — are  not  you  a  friend  of  King  Karl  ?  " 
she  inquired  of  Trafford,  while  a  new  light  shone  in  her 
eyes. 


LI 


"The  lady  wants  to  be  seen  home — and  I'm  going 
to  do  it  if  I  swing  for  it!" 


"WEIN,   WEIB,   UND    GESANG  "          6T 

The  American  gave  a  furious  twist  to  his  moustache 
before  answering. 

"Mrs.  Saunders,  I  believe,  has  recommended  me  as 

'his  Commander-in-Chief,"  he  said  with  mock  gravity, 

"  but  the  appointment  has  not  yet  been  confirmed.  'Till 

then  my  services  are  at  the  disposal  of  the  highest 

bidder." 

"  My  American  friend's  services  are  of  problematic 
value,"  put  in  Saunders,  recovering  his  temper.  "  He 
is  an  excellent  skater,  but  a  questionable  general.  He 
has  had  an  exciting  day  and  a  superb  dinner.  With 
your  permission  I  will  take  him  back  to  his  bed  at  the 
Hotel  Concordia." 

The  Princess  had  not  taken  her  eyes  off  of  the 
American  since  he  had  last  spoken. 

"  He  has  energy,"  she  mused,  looking  into  space 
now,  "  also  the  capacity  for  inspiring  enthusiasm,  and 
I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  he  has  not  the  instinct  of  a 
born  tactician." 

"  But  I  am,"  Saunders  broke  in  bluntly.  "  Princess, 
we  have  the  honour  of  wishing  you  good-night ! " 

The  Princess  laid  a  delicate  hand  on  the  English- 
man's arm. 

"  Herr  Saunders,"  she  said,  "  I  will  ask  you  to  see 
me  home." 

Saunders  shook  his  head. 

"  You  must  excuse  me,"  he  said.  "  To-night,  I  am 
neutral,  but  neutral  only.  I  am  the  King's  guest  and 
must  not  aid  the  King's  enemies." 

"  Good  loyal  man  !  "  exclaimed  the  Princess.  "  Plus 
royalist  que  le  roil "  And  then  turning  to  the  Ameri- 


68  GLORIA 

can:  "And  Herr  Trafford?  He  will  not  refuse  to 
perform  a  small  act  of  courtesy  ?  " 

"  Trafford  accompanies  me ! "  declared  Saunders 
firmly. 

"  I'm  hanged  if  he  does ! "  spoke  up  Trafford.  "  The 
lady  wants  to  be  seen  home — and  I'm  going  to  do  it  if 
I  swing  for  it !  " 

The  Princess  transferred  her  hand  to  Trafford's  arm. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said  with  a  bewilderingly  grateful 
look  up  into  his  face. 

"  Nervy,  you're  a  fool — a  bigger  fool  than  ever  I 
believed  you  to  be ! "  exploded  Saunders. 

Trafford's  only  answer  was  a  most  complacent  grin. 

"  Good-night,  Herr  Saunders ! "  said  the  Princess 
in  the  sweetest  of  accents.  "  Remember  me  kindly  to 
your  wife  and  other  Royalists.  We  may  meet  again 
or  not — my  impression  is  that  we  shall.  ...  If 
so,  remember  that  laughter  is  not  always  a  symptom 
of  child's  play." 

"  Good-night,  Princess ! "  returned  Saunders  with 
an  exaggerated  low  bow.  "  Forgive  me,  won't  you,  if 
I  take  the  threatened  revolution  lightly?  The  pos- 
sibility of  your  sitting  on  the  throne  of  Grimland,"  he 
went  on  with  another  obeisance,  "  opens  up  such  de- 
lightful prospect  that  I  shall  fight  against  it  with  only 
half  a  heart.  Still,  I  shall  fight  against  it.  Good- 
night, Prin — Your  Majesty ! " 


CONFIDENCES    IN    A    WINE    SHOP 

NERVY  TRAFFORD — comfortably  covered  by  a  warm 
rug,  seated  in  an  open  sleigh  next  to  a  young  lady  of 
exalted  birth,  romantic  temperament,  and  unimpeach- 
able comeliness — was  almost  a  happy  man.  It  was 
not  that  he  had  fallen  in  love  at  first  sight,  that  he  had 
found  swift  consolation  for  his  recent  disappointment  in 
a  rapidly-engendered  passion  for  the  fascinating  claim- 
ant to  the  throne  of  Grimland,  that  he  was  capable  of 
offering  any  woman  the  fine  spiritual  worship  he  had 
accorded  to  the  adorable  Angela  Knox ;  but  to  his  tem- 
perament admiration  came  easily — and  he  had  dined 
well.  He  had  been  the  auditor  of  a  wildly  exciting  song, 
had  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  inimitable  singer, 
and  because  there  was  wine  and  music  in  his  blood,  and 
much  beauty  by  his  side,  the  nightmare  of  his  past  de- 
pression vanished  into  the  biting  air,  and  his  pulses 
stirred  to  a  lilt  of  amazing  exhilaration. 

"  By  Jove !  "  he  exclaimed  to  himself,  stealing  a  side 
glance  at  his  companion's  bewitching  profile,  "  Saunders 
is  right — life  is  too  valuable  an  asset  to  fling  away  in 
a  moment's  madness.  There  is  a  beauty  of  the  body 
and  a  beauty  of  the  soul,  and  if  the  two  are  perfectly 
combined  in  only  one  woman  in  the  universe,  is  that  any 
reason  why  I  should  not  admire  a  tip-tilted  nose  or  a 


70  GLORIA 

curved  mouth  when  Fate  puts  them  within  a  hand's 
breadth  of  my  own  scrubby  cheek?  " 

"  Do  you  know  Weidenbruck,  Herr  Trafford?  "  the 
Princess  broke  in  on  his  silent  philosophising. 

"  Little  beyond  the  Hotel  Concordia,"  he  replied. 
**  Where  are  we  now  ?  " 

"The  Domkircheplatz.    That  is  the  Cathedral." 

They  were  crossing  a  big  open  space,  well  lit,  planted 
with  trees,  and  adorned  in  its  centre  by  a  big  group 
of  statuary.  To  their  right  was  a  huge  gothic  build- 
ing— a  high  ridged  intricate  structure  of  red  sandstone 
— with  a  tangle  of  fretted  pinnacles  and  flying  but- 
tresses, and  a  couple  of  lofty  towers  that  stood  out 
black  against  the  starry  heaven. 

"  A  fine  building !  "  commented  the  American. 

"  That  is  where  I  am  going  to  be  crowned,"  said 
the  Princess,  and  she  laughed  a  fine,  free,  silvery  laugh 
that  thrilled  her  companion  with  admiration. 

"  That's  the  right  spirit,"  he  said  gaily ;  **  and 
what's  this  depressing-looking  place  in  front  of 
us?" 

"  That's  where  I  shall  probably  be  confined,"  was 
the  cheerful  retort. 

The  building  in  question  occupied  the  entire  side  of 
the  square,  and  was  as  gloomy  as  it  was  vast.  It  was 
a  plain  rectangular  structure  totally  devoid  of  orna- 
ment, and  constructed  of  enormous  blocks  of  rough 
hewn  stone ;  irregularly  spaced  windows  broke  its  som- 
bre front  with  narrow  slits  and  iron  gratings,  and  a 
high-pitched  roof  of  ruddy  tiles  crowned  the  grim 
precipice  of  enduring  masonry. 


CONFIDENCES    IN    A    WINE    SHOP       71 

"  That's  the  Strafeburg,"  concluded  the  Princess, 
"  the  Bastile  of  Weidenbruck !  " 

"  I  see  myself  rescuing  you  from  that  topmost  win- 
dow," ventured  Trafford. 

The  Princess  turned  half  round  and  looked  at  him 
curiously. 

"  Thanks,"  she  murmured,  "  but  I  shall  keep  out- 
side as  long  as  I  can.  As  a  foreigner  you  should  visit 
it — as  a  sight-seer.  It  is  a  most  depressing  place,  but 
there  is  a  very  valuable  collection  of  armour  and  a 
collection  of  instruments  of  torture  without  its  equal 
in  Europe." 

"  Is  it  still  used  as  a  prison  ?  "  asked  Trafford. 

"  They  say  not."  There  was  a  meaning  behind  her 
qualified  denial  and  Trafford  demanded  it.  "  Between 
official  statements  and  actual  facts  there  is  apt  to  be  a 
serious  discrepancy  in  this  unfortunate  land,"  she  re- 
plied. "  Officially,  no  one  resides  in  the  Strafeburg 
but  the  caretaker  and  his  daughter.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  I  am  told  that  several  political  prisoners  are  still 
rotting  in  its  dungeons." 

Trafford  shuddered.  He  was  a  very  humane  man, 
— despite  his  explosive  temperament.  His  companion 
noted  keenly  the  effect  of  her  words,  and  went  on: 

"  Officially,  also,  the  instruments  of  torture  went  out 
of  use  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago." 

"  You  mean " 

"  I  mean,"  she  continued,  "  that  our  dear  humane 
monarch  does  not  stick  at  trifles  when  his  interests  are 
threatened." 

Trafford   opened  his   eyes   wide,   and  regarded  his 


72  GLORIA 

companion  with  amazement.  In  his  curious,  excitable 
brain  was  a  largely  developed  loathing  of  cruelty. 
Hard  knocks  he  was  prepared  to  give  or  receive  in  the 
world's  battle,  big  risks  to  life  and  limb  he  was  pre- 
pared to  incur  or  inflict  with  heedless  impartiality,  but 
deliberate  cruelty,  the  malicious  and  intentional  in- 
fliction of  pain  on  man  or  brute,  always  roused  him 
to  a  frenzy  of  wrath.  The  Princess  read  his  look  and 
silence. 

"  The  Archbishop  of  Weidenbruclc,  a  political  op- 
ponent of  King  Karl's,  is  said  to  have  met  a  peculiarly 
terrible  end,"  she  said  meaningly.  • 

"  Impossible !  "  muttered  Traff ord. 

"  Impossible  things  happen  in  Grimland.  It  is  im- 
possible, of  course,  that  you  should  side  against  your 
friend,  Herr  Saunders,  and  your  prospective  friend, 
King  Karl "  and  she  touched  his  hand  with  an  un- 
conscious impulsive  movement, — "  and  help  me  in  my 
legitimate  ambitions." 

Her  words  were  in  the  nature  of  a  suggestion,  almost 
a  question. 

Trafford.  answered  them  between  his  teeth. 

"  That  is  the  sort  of  impossibility  that  comes  off," 
he  muttered. 

"  You  mean  it?  "  demanded  his  fair  companion,  and 
her  eyes  were  pleading  as  they  had  pleaded  with  Cap- 
tain von  H'iigelweiler  in  the  Thiergarten. 

Trafford  drank  deep  of  their  glance,  and  it  intoxi- 
cated him. 

"  When  I  see  these  picturesque  buildings,"  he  re- 
turned, "  with  their  garlands  of  snow  and  cornices  of 


CONFIDENCES   IN   A   WINE    SHOP       73 

icicles,  I  feel  I  am  in  fairyland.  And  in  fairyland,  you1 
know,  the  poor  beast  is  changed  into  a  handsome  young 
man  and  marries  the  beautiful  Princess."  He  was  not 
insensible  of  his  boldness,  and  carried  it  off  with  a 
laugh.  "  I  feel  the  transmogrifying  effects  of  this 
fairy  kingdom  already." 

"  And  you  are  beginning  to  feel  a  handsome  young 
man  ?  "  asked  the  Princess  gaily. 

"  I  have  felt  it  this  past  quarter  of  an  hour,  Prin- 
cess," he  answered,  twirling  at  his  frozen  moustache. 
"  Already  wild  hopes  are  stirring  in  my  bosom." 

"You  are  not  going  to  propose,  are  you?"  she 
asked  calmly,  but  with  a  most  delicious  quiver  of  the 
lips. 

Trafford  looked  at  his  fair  interrogator  steadily 
a  few  seconds  before  replying.  If  ever  encouragement 
was  legible  in  bright  eyes  and  challenging  smile,  it  was 
writ  clear  in  the  facile  features  of  the  Princess  von 
Schattenberg.  Again  he  drank  deep  of  beauty  and 
his  brain  reeled  among  the  stars. 

"  Not  exactly  a  proposal,  but  I'll  make  you  a  prop- 
osition," he  said  in  a  voice  typically  American  in  its* 
business-like  tone. 

They  had  entered  a  narrow  side  street,  and  the  driver 
was  pulling  up  his  horse  before  a  disreputable-looking; 
wine  shop.  Dismissing  the  sleigh  the  Princess  led  the 
way  into  the  building  through  a  low,  malodorous 
room — where  a  number  of  men  were  swilling  beeiy 
smoking,  and  playing  dominoes — and  penetrated  to  an 
inner  chamber. 

"And  is  this  your  home?"  inquired  Trafford. 


74  GLORIA 

"  One  of  them,"  was  the  reply.  "  An  outlaw  must 
sleep  where  she  can — it's  wise  to  vary  one's  abode." 

An  old  man  in  shirt-sleeves  and  apron  entered  the 
room  and  demanded  their  pleasure. 

"  We  want  nothing  except  solitude,"  said  the  Prin- 
cess. "  May  we  have  that,  Herr  Krantz  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly,  your  High ,  gracious  lady. 

You  will  not  be  interrupted  unless " 

"  Thanks,  good  Herr  Krantz,  I  understand." 

The  old  landlord  inclined  his  bald  head  and  quitted 
the  shabby  apartment.  The  Princess  motioned  to  her 
companion  to  be  seated,  pointing  to  a  chair  at  a  small 
table,  then  taking  a  seat  opposite  him,  she  rested  her 
pretty  head  on  her  hands,  her  elbows  resting  on  the 
table,  and  surprised  him  by  suddenly  popping  out: 

"  And  now  about  that  proposition  of  yours -" 

Trafford's  countenance  indicated  that  he  thought 
that  the  bantering  note  in  her  voice  and  words  was  dis- 
tinctly out-of-place,  but  notwithstanding  he  drew  his 
chair  closer  and  began: 

"  Princess,  we  have  not  known  each  other  long ' 

"  We  have  not  known  each  other  at  all,"  she  quickly 
interrupted. 

"  Pardon  me,"  corrected  Traff ord,  with  a  fierce 
energy  that  always  possessed  him  at  a  crisis.  "  You 
diagnosed  me  admirably  in  your  dressing-room  at  the 
Eden  Theatre.  With  equal  perspicacity  I  have 
diagnosed  you  on  our  frosty  drive  hither.  Shall  I 
tell  it? — yes?  Well,  then,  a  nature  ardent  but  pure, 
fierce  without  being  cruel,  simple  without  being  foolish. 
I  see  youth,  birth  and  beauty  blended  into  one  ex- 


75 

hilarating  whole — and  I  bow  down  and  worship.  To 
a  heart  like  yours,  nothing  is  impossible — not  even  the 
capacity  of  falling  in  love  with  an  adventurous  Ameri- 
can. I  do  not  make  you  a  proposal  of  marriage,  but 
a  matrimonial  proposition."  He  paused  to  note  the 
effect  of  his  words  before  concluding  with :  "  Now 
then,  if  by  my  efforts  I  can  secure  for  you  the  throne 
of  Grimland,  will  you  reward  me  with  your  heart  and 
hand?" 

The  Princess  drew  in  a  long  breath,  half-astonish- 
ment, half-admiration. 

"  That  is  one  of  the  impossibilities  that  does  not 
come  off — even  in  Grimland,"  she  told  him  at  last. 

"  Listen,"  Trafford  went  on  impetuously,  "  I  shall 
only  ask  for  my  reward  in  the  event  of  your  being 
crowned  in  the  Cathedral  of  Weidenbruck,  and  in  the 
event  of  your  acknowledging  of  your  own  free  will 
that  I  have  been  mainly  instrumental  in  winning  you 
your  sovereignty." 

The  Princess  bit  her  lips  and  nodded  silently,  as  if 
weighing  his  words.  Something,  however,  impelled  her 
to  make  the  obvious  objection. 

"  In  the  event  of  my  being  crowned  Queen  of  Grim- 
land,"  she  reminded  him,  "  I  shall  not  be  permitted  to 
marry  whom  I  will.  If  I  married  you  without  the 
consent  of  my  counsellors  and  Parliament  the  mar- 
riage would  be,  ipso  facto,  null  and  void." 

"  All  I  ask  is  your  promise  to  go  through  the  cere- 
mony with  the  necessary  legal  and  religious  forms." 

The  Princess  remained  a  moment  in  silent  thought. 
Then  she  broke  out  into  her  merriest  laugh. 


76  GLORIA 

"  We  are  building  castles  in  the  air,"  she  hastened 
to  say.  "  Yes,  I  promise — on  those  conditions.  But 
you  perceive  the  badness  of  the  bargain  you  are  mak- 
ing? A  marriage  that  will  be  no  marriage — a  con- 
tract that  will  not  be  worth  the  paper  it  is  written 
on?" 

"  I  will  chance  its  validity." 

"  In  that  event  and  on  those  conditions  you  shall 
have  my  hand." 

The  Princess  stretched  forth  her  right  hand. 

Trafford  took  it  and  pressed  his  lips  to  it. 

'*  And  heart  ?  "  he  demanded. 

As  in  the  Thiergarten  with  Von  Hiigelweiler,  the 
Princess  Gloria  hesitated  momentarily,  but  long 
enough  for  the  framing  of  a  lie.  But  this  time  some- 
thing strangled  the  conceived  falsehood  before  it  passed 
her  lips. 

"  Alas ! "  she  faltered.  "  Nature  forgot  to  give  me  a 
heart."  The  words  were  seriously  enough  spoken,  but 
somehow  they  did  not  ring  true  to  him. 

"  You  are  incapable  of  love  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  Princess  flushed  deeply  as  slowly  she  scanned 
the  man  who  faced  her.  It  was  patent  that  a  battle 
was  raging  in  her  heaving  bosom.  For  a  full  half- 
minute  silence  reigned,  a  silence  broken  only  by  faint 
murmurs  and  the  clink  of  beer  glasses  from  the  outer 
room.  And  all  the  time  Trafford's  face  preserved  an 
expressionless  immobility,  his  eyes  a  gleam  of  stern 
directness.  The  Princess  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  The 
battle  was  over;  something  was  lost,  something  was 
won. 


CONFIDENCES   IN   A    WINE    SHOP       77 

"  Herr  Trafford,"  she  began  in  a  mechanical  voice, 
"  I  want  to  tell  you  the  history  of  my  maiden  fancies. 
At  the  age  of  seventeen — when  staying  at  Weissheim, 
at  my  father's  schloss,  the  Marienkastel — I  fell  in  love 
with  a  young  officer  in  the  Guides.  He  was  handsome, 
aristocratic,  a  gallant  man  with  a  refined  nature  and 
a  superb  athlete  as  well.  He  loved  me  dearly — was 
more  to  me  than  my  father,  mother  or  anyone  or  any- 
thing in  the  kingdom  of  Grimland.  But  my  infatua- 
tion was  divined,  and  we  were  separated.  I  wept, 
I  stormed,  I  vowed  nothing  would  ever  comfort  me. 
Nevertheless,  in  six  months  I  was  a  happy,  laughing 
girl  again  with  an  intense  love  of  life,  and  only  an 
occasional  stab  of  regret  for  a  heart  I  had  sworn  to  call 
my  own." 

Trafford's  face  showed  his  sympathy,  but  he  did 
not  speak. 

"  Then  came  the  winter  of  1904,"  the  Princess  went 
on  with  the  same  unemotional  tone.  "  In  our  unsuc- 
cessful rebellion  of  that  fatal  winter  an  Englishman 
performed  prodigies  of  valor.  It  was  mainly  owing 
to  his  foresight  and  daring  that  King  Karl  saved  his 
throne — and  my  father  and  brother  met  death  instead 
of  the  crown  that  was  within  their  grasp.  Later,  it  is 
true,  this  same  Englishman  saved  my  life  and  pro- 
cured my  escape  from  Grimland.  But,  even  so,  would 
any  girl  not  dowered  by  Providence  with  a  fickle  dis- 
position permit  any  feeling  to  dwell  in  her  heart  other 
than  hate  and  horror  for  such  a  man?  And  yet,  I  was 
on  the  point  of  experiencing  something  more  than  ad- 
miration for  this  fearless  Englishman,  a  second  con- 


78  GLORIA 

quest  of  my  heart  was  imminent " — she  paused  to 
scrutinise  the  face  of  the  man  at  her  side,  watching 
keenly  for  some  signs  of  disapproval — "  when  it  was 
nipped  in  the  bud,  strangled  in  its  infancy,  if  ever 
there,  by  his  choosing  a  mate  elsewhere.  So,  once 
again  I  was  fancy  free.  What  then  is  love — my  love  ?  " 
she  exclaimed  wistfully.  "  A  gust  that  blusters  and 
dies  down,  a  swift  passing  thunder-storm,  a  mocking 
dream," — her  voice  quavered  and  sank, — "  a  false 
vision  of  a  sun  that  never  rose  on  plain  or  on  moun- 
tain." 

Trafford  met  the  sadness  of  her  gaze  with  eyes  that 
twinkled  with  a  strange  kindliness.  The  story  of  her 
life  had  moved  him  strongly.  At  the  beginning  of  their 
interview  he  had  felt  like  a  seafarer  listening  to  the 
voice  of  the  siren.  He  had  been  bartering  his  strength 
and  manhood  for  the  silken  joys  of  a  woman's  allure- 
ments. His  native  shrewdness  had  told  him  that  he 
was  being  enticed  less  for  himself  than  the  usufruct 
of  his  brain  and  muscles;  but  the  bait  was  so  sweet 
that  his  exalted  senses  had  deemed  it  more  than  worthy 
of  the  price  he  paid.  Had  the  Princess  Gloria  avowed 
a  deep  and  spontaneous  passion  for  him,  he  would  not 
have  believed  her;  but  he  would  have  been  content, 
and  well  content,  with  the  agreeable  lie.  But  she  had 
been  honest  with  him, — honest  to  the  detriment  of  her 
own  interest. 

"You  don't  dislike  me,  do  you?  "  he  blurted  out,  at 
length. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  she  responded  frankly,  "  I  like 
you  well,  Herr  Trafford." 


CONFIDENCES   IN   A   WINE    SHOP       79s 

"  It  would  be  sad  otherwise,"  he  sighed,  "  for  I  like 
you  exceedingly  well." 

And  at  that  she  put  her  hand  bravely  on  his  shoulder 
and  smiled  at  him. 

"  Never  mind,  comrade,"  she  told  him,  "  your  heart 
is  big  enough  and  warm  enough  for  two." 

"  My  heart ! "  he  exclaimed  in  a  most  lugubrious 
way,  "  my  heart  is  several  degrees  colder  than  the  ice 
on  the  Rundsee ;  "  and  added  with  terrible  lack  of  tact : 
"whatever  of  warmth  and  fire  it  possessed  was  extin- 
guished last  Christmas  Eve." 

The  Princess  removed  her  hand  from  his  shoulder 
in  a  manner  that  should  have  left  no  doubt  in  his  mind 
of  the  thought  behind  it. 

"  Princess,"  he  went  blindly  on,  "  you  have  told 
me  your  story,  let  me  tell  you  mine — it  is  brevity 
itself." 

The  Princess  inclined  her  head. 

"  I  fell  in  love  with  a  young  lady  named  Angela 
Khox — an  American;'* — and  his  tone  was  fully  as 
responsible  as  his  words  for  bringing  his  companion's 
eyes  back  to  his  with  something  of  the  scorn  his  clumsy 
love-making  deserved ; — "  the  young  lady,  Angela 
Knox,  refused  me.  I  tried  to  blow  my  brains  out,  but 
Fate  and  Saunders  willed  otherwise.  The  latter  ad- 
vised Grimland  as  a  hygienic  antidote  to  felo  de  se. 
"  Behold,  then,"  he  concluded  with  a  sigh,  "  an  able- 
bodied  man  with  an  icicle  in  his  breast !  " 

Trafford  spread  out  his  hands  in  an  explanatory 
gesture,  and  then  for  the  first  time  he  noted  the  height- 
ened colour  in  the  Princess's  cheek,  that  her  eyes  were 


r80  GLORO 

aflame,  and  that  an  explosion  of  some  kind  was 
imminent. 

"  And  you  had  the  impudence  to  make  love  to  me ! " 
she  cried  in  that  wonderful  voice  that  had  captivated 
audiences  with  every  intonation,  from  the  angry  tones 
of  a  jealous  grisette  to  the  caressing  notes  of  the 
ingenue.  "  To  amuse  yourself  by  feigning  a  pure 

devotion "     But  the  Princess's  words   failed  her, 

and  the  hand  of  a  Schattenberg  was  raised  so  threat- 
eningly,— at  any  rate,  so  it  seemed  to  Trafford — 
that  in  surprise  and  consternation  he  rose  from  his 
chair,  and  as  he  did  so,  his  head  came  in  contact  with 
the  electric  light,  which  hung  low  from  the  dingy  ceil- 
ing. Simultaneously  the  white  fire  in  the  glass  bulb 
was  extinguished  to  a  thin,  dull  red  line,  and  in  two 
seconds  they  were  in  total  darkness. 


CHAPTER  EIGHT 

THE    BARGAIN 

FOR  several  seconds  Trafford  stood  silent  in  the  dark- 
ness, thinking  furiously.  What  was  the  correct  thing 
to  say  or  do  in  such  an  unusual,  almost  painful,  situa- 
tion, he  had  not  the  faintest  idea.  But  before  speech 
suggested  itself  to  his  puzzled  brain,  his  companion — 
not  wholly  successful  in  smothering  the  merriment  that 
had  instantly  replaced  her  affectation  of  anger — had 
checked  him  with  a  warning  "  hush !  " 

Noiselessly  the  Princess  tiptoed  to  the  glazed  parti- 
tion that  separated  the  inner  chamber  from  the  wine- 
shop, and  drawing  back  a  curtain  gazed  cautiously 
through  the  chink. 

A  couple  of  men — as  indigent  in  appearance  as  the 
rest  of  the  throng — had  entered  the  shop  and  were 
talking  to  the  landlord.  The  latter  was  all  civility 
and  smiles,  but  his  customers  were  regarding  the  new- 
comers with  glances  of  deep  suspicion  and  resentment. 

After  gazing  a  few  seconds,  the  Princess  returned  to 
Trafford,  and  taking  him  by  the  hand  led  him  rapidly 
through  another  door  into  a  street  at  the  back. 

"  Krantz  extinguished  the  light,"  she  whispered. 
"  It  was  not  your  head,  stupid,  that  did  it !  It  was 
the  danger-signal  agreed  upon  between  us — there  are 
a  couple  of  police  agents  in  the  shop." 

The  touch  of  melodrama  delighted  Trafford,  and 

81 


82  GLORIA 

the  presence  of  danger  destroyed  much  of  his  em- 
barrassment. They  were  in  a  narrow  lane,  lighted  at 
rare  intervals,  and  half  choked  with  snow.  A  bitter 
wind  blew  cheerlessly  between  lofty  houses,  but  the 
stars  burned  clearly  in  the  deep  violet  of  the  heavens. 

"  Where  now  ?  "  he  asked  briefly. 

"  Home,"  answered  the  Princess  curtly.  "  I'm  going 
home — good-night !  " 

Trafford  stood  irresolute.  A  hand  was  offered  him 
in  farewell.  It  might  be  tactless  to  enforce  his  society 
any  longer,  but  there  were  reasons — the  hour  and  the 
gloom  of  the  street  if  nothing  else — why  he  could  not 
leave  her  alone. 

"  I  promised  to  see  you  home,"  he  protested  stub- 
bornly. "  I  keep  my  promises." 

"  You  are  foolish,"  she  returned,  accepting  the  sit- 
uation and  walking  briskly  down  the  street.  "  This 
quarter  of  Weidenbruck  is  anything  but  a  safe  one, 
despite  its  present  tranquillity.  There  are  queer  folk 
dwelling  in  these  gabled  old  houses — men  who  live  by 
the  knife  and  the  garote!  You  would  be  wise  to  re- 
seek  the  civilisation  of  the  Hotel  Concordia." 

"  Is  it  necessary  to  insult  me  ?  "  bristling. 

"  Ah,  but  you  found  it  necessary  to  insult  me ! "  she 
retorted. 

61  In  what  way  ?  "  staring  at  her  in  astonishment. 

"  By  making  love — such  love !  You  nearly  blow 
your  brains  out  for  a  silly  American  girl,  and  then  have 
the  impertinence  to  ask  me — me,  the  Princess  Gloria 
von  Schattenberg — to  marry  you,  informing  me 
casually  that  your  heart  is  dead  and  cold." 


THE    BARGAIN  83 

"  But  your  heart  is  dead  and  cold,  too,"  he  argued 
fatuously.  "  And  you  were  not  willing  to  accept  me. 
It  seems  that  we  are  in  the  same  boat.  We  offered 
too  little,  and  we  asked  too  much." 

The  Princess  was  momentarily  silenced  by  his  logic ; 
womanlike,  however,  she  refused  to  let  things  end  in  a 
logical  conclusion. 

"  I  am  terribly  angry  with  you,"  she  persisted,  nev- 
.  ertheless,  with  what  Trafford  could  have  sworn  was  a 
veritable  wink. 

"  So  I  was  led  to  suppose,"  he  replied,  rubbing  his 
head. 

His  words  and  their  accompanying  action,  tickled 
the  Princess's  risibilities,  always  lying  just  beneath  the 
surface.  She  bit  her  lips  in  a  desperate  effort  to  con- 
trol, but  in  a  moment  her  fine,  fearless  laugh  rang  out 
merrily  in  the  deserted  street.  Trafford  gazed  in 
amazement  at  his  volatile  companion,  and  then  he 
laughed,  too. 

"  Don't  imagine  that  I  am  not  angry  because  I'm 
laughing,"  declared  the  Princess.  "  I  have — unfor- 
tunately, perhaps — a  painfully  acute  sense  of  hu- 
mour. I  very  often  laugh  when  I  am  feeling  most 
deeply." 

But  Trafford  having  commenced  to  laugh,  gave 
way  to  roars  of  laughter.  He  had  been  accorded  such 
varied  treatment,  such  swiftly-changing  moods,  that 
he  was  quite  uncertain  as  to  what  the  next  moment 
would  bring  forth ;  and  the  atmosphere  of  political 
intrigue  and  romantic  adventure — with  its  picturesque 
setting  of  ancient  houses  and  deep  snow — lifted  him 


84  GLORIA' 

Into  such  regions  of  pure  unreality  that  he  laughed 
for  very  joy  at  the  exhilarating  absurdity  of  it  all. 

"  Great  Scott !  To  think  I  have  lived  eight-and- 
twenty  years  without  discovering  Grimland ! "  he  ex- 
claimed when  able  to  catch  his  breath.  "  Princess, 
you  must  indeed  forgive  me.  ...  It  seems,  be- 
sides dead  hearts,  we  have  in  common  a  most  lively 
sense  of  the  ridiculous." 

"  I'll  forgive  you  when  you  have  seen  me  home,"  she 
replied.  "  But  I  absolutely  repudiate  the  bargain  we 
made  at  Herr  Krantz's  wine  shop.  We  may  have 
much  in  common  .  .  .  but  surely  you  don't  sup- 
pose that  I  would  marry  a  man  with  a  dead  heart?  " 

"  As  to  the  bargain,  I  surmised  as  much  when  you 

raised  your  hand  to "  he  broke  off  suddenly,  and 

then  added :  "  I  suppose  the  deal  is  off,  then  ?  Well, 
perhaps  it's  just  as  well  for  both  of  us.  May  I  ask 
where  your  home  is  ?  " 

"  My  home — my  home  for  to-night — is  there,"  said 
the  Princess,  pointing  across  the  street  to  an  entrance, 
which  bore  the  number  forty-two. 

Trafford  looked  up  at  a  venerable  structure,  which 
raised  its  steep  gable  somewhat  higher  than  its 
neighbours. 

Light  shone  from  a  window  on  the  second  story. 
Otherwise  the  fa9ade  showed  a  blank  front  of  closed 
shutters.  Just  as  they  were  crossing  the  snow- 
encumbered  road,  a  couple  of  men  halted  before  the 
door  in  question,  and  one  of  them  knocked  loudly. 
The  Princess  and  Trafford  stopped  automatically. 
Both  scented  danger,  one  from  experience,  the  other 


THE   BARGAIN  85 

from  instinct.  A  friendly  archway  afforded  complete 
concealment,  and  there,  sheltered  alike  from  gaze  and 
the  bitter  wind,  they  awaited  developments. 

Trafford  felt  his  arm  gripped  tight  by  a  little  hand, 
either  from  excitement  or  from  a  desire  for  protection. 

"  Those  are  Meyer's  men,"  whispered  the  Princess. 

Trafford  nodded  in  reply.  He  was  humming  the 
Rothlied  softly  between  his  teeth.  They  watched 
for  a  silent  moment,  and  then  a  woman  answered  the 
door.  After  a  moment's  palaver,  the  men  went  in. 
Simultaneously  two  more  men  glided  into  view  from 
some  invisible  hiding-place,  and  took  up  their  posi- 
tions one  on  each  side  of  the  doorway. 

"  Are  you  armed  ?  "  asked  the  Princess  in  a  whisper. 

Trafford's   eyes  were  like  stars  for  brightness. 

"  I  have  my  fists,"  he  answered. 

The  Princess  produced  a  tiny  revolver  from  a  satin 
handbag,  which  she  pressed  on  her  companion. 

Trafford  declined  it  curtly. 

"  I  have  my  fists,"  he  repeated. 

The  Princess  regarded  him  with  astonishment  and 
a  recrudescence  of  anger. 

"  They  are  trying  to  take  my  friend,"  she  ex- 
postulated in  low  tones.  "  They  will  probably  murder 
him.  It  is  essential  to  my  success  that  he  escapes 
their  clutches." 

"  He'll  escape  all  right,"  said  Trafford,  with  the 
unreasoning  confidence  of  the  born  optimist;  but  the 
Princess  stamped  with  annoyance  at  his  folly. 

Suddenly  sounds  of  a  struggle  were  heard  from  the 
direction  of  the  lighted  window  on  the  second  floor— 


86  GLORIA 

sounds  of  shifting  feet  and  reeling  furniture,  but  no 
cry  of  human  throat  or  crack  of  firearm. 

"  I  must  investigate  this,"  said  Tr afford,  but  before 
he  could  take  action  there  was  a  great  crash  of  riven 
glass,  and  a  dark  form  fell  rolling  and  clutching  from 
the  shattered  window  into  the  street.  The  fall  was 
considerable,  but  the  snow  broke  its  force,  and  the 
man  stirred  where  he  lay. 

"  Is  it  he?  "  asked  the  Princess  breathlessly.  "  No, 
thank  God !  "  she  answered  herself  as  the  man  raised 
a  bearded  face  from  the  snow,  and  groaned  in  agony. 

"  Look  out ! "  said  TrafFord,  for  there  were  sounds 
of  men  descending  a  staircase  at  breakneck  speed,  and 
as  he  spoke  a  dark  form  issued  from  the  doorway. 
As  it  did  so,  one  of  the  two  men  who  were  waiting 
without,  threw  a  cloak  over  the  head  and  arms  of  the 
emerging  man.  Simultaneously  the  other  raised  a 
weapon  and  struck.  A  half-second  later  and  another 
man  issued  from  the  house,  and  leaped  like  a  wild 
beast  on  the  back  of  the  enmeshed  and  stricken  man. 

This  was  too  much  for  Trafford's  tingling  nerves. 
Leaving  the  Princess  where  she  stood  in  the  archway, 
he  darted  across  the  road  with  the  speed  of  a  football 
end  going  down  the  field  under  a  punt  to  tackle  the 
opposing  fullback.  His  passage  was  rendered  noise- 
less by  the  soft  carpet  of  thick  snow,  and  he  arrived 
unseen  and  unheard  at  the  scene  of  the  melee.  The 
man  with  the  dagger  was  just  about  to  strike  again. 
He  had  been  making  desperate  efforts  to  do  so  for 
several  moments,  but  his  would-be  victim  was  struggling 
like  a  trapped  tiger,  and  the  heaving,  writhing  mass 


THE   BARGAIN  87 

of  humanity,  wherein  aggressors  and  quarry  were  in- 
extricably entangled,  offered  no  safe  mark  for  the 
assassin's  steel.  However,  just  as  his  point  was  raised 
aloft  with  desperate  intent,  Trafford  anticipated  his 
action  with  a  swinging  blow  on  the  side  of  the  head. 
The  man  fell,  dazed  and  stunned,  against  the  wall. 
Trafford,  with  his  fighting  lust  now  thoroughly  in- 
flamed, turned  his  instant  attention  to  the  other  ag- 
gressors. Now,  however,  he  had  no  unprepared  vic- 
tim for  his  vigorous  arm.  A  vile-looking  ruffian,  with 
low  brow  and  matted  hair,  had  extricated  himself  from 
the  involved  struggle,  and  was  feeling  for  a  broad 
knife  that  lay  ready  to  hand  in  his  leather  belt. 

With  the  swift  acumen  born  of  pressing  danger, 
Trafford  stooped  down,  and  picking  up  a  lump  of 
frozen  snow,  dashed  it  in  his  enemy's  face.  A  shrewd 
blow  in  the  midriff  followed  this  tactical  success,  and 
further  punishment  would  have  befallen  the  unhappy 
man  had  not  his  original  victim,  freed  from  two  of 
his  three  aggressors,  gained  his  feet,  and  in  his  effort 
to  escape,  cannoned  so  violently  and  unexpectedly  into 
Trafford,  that  the  enterprising  American  lost  his  bal- 
ance and  fell  precipitately  into  the  soft  snow.  When 
he  regained  his  feet  he  saw  a  tall  form  flying  rapidly 
down  the  street,  with  two  assailants  in  hot  pursuit. 

"  You've  begun  well ! "  said  a  soft  voice  in  his  ear. 
Trafford  turned  and  faced  the  Princess. 

"  Begun  well?  "  he  repeated,  brushing  the  snow  from 
his  person. 

"  A  good  beginning  for  your  work  of  winning  me 
a  throne." 


88  GLORIA 

"  I  don't  understand." 

"  Our  bargain  is  on  again,"  she  declared,  with  sup- 
pressed enthusiasm,  "  unless  you  wish  it  otherwise?  " 

He  looked  into  her  fearless  eyes,  which  fell  at  length 
before  his  own. 

"  We  will  let  it  stand,"  he  agreed  curtly.  "  But 
what  of  your  friend? "  he  went  on,  "  will  he  get 
away  ?  " 

"  If  he  wishes,"  answered  the  Princess  easily.  "  It 
would  take  more  than  two  men  to  capture  Father  Bern- 
hardt.  I  have  no  further  anxiety  on  his  account,  but 
what  about  me — poor  me?  " 

"  About  you?  "  he  repeated,  without  understanding. 

"  Where  am  I  to  spend  the  night?  " 

Trafford  passed  his  hand  through  his  ruffled  locks, 
dislodging  therefrom  several  pieces  of  frozen  snow. 
Then  he  looked  at  the  man  who  had  staggered  under 
his  blow  against  the  wall,  and  who  was  eyeing  them 
with  a  malignancy  that  bespoke  rapid  recuperation. 
The  man  who  had  fallen  into  the  street  had  risen  to 
his  knees  and  was  muttering  something — a  curse  or 
a  prayer — and  might  speedily  exchange  speech  for 
action.  The  two  pursuers  of  Father  Bernhardt  might 
return, — baffled  of  their  prey  and  breathing  threaten- 
ings  and  slaughter, — at  any  moment. 

Trafford  grasped  the  Princess's  hand  and  dragged 
her  across  the  street. 

"  Herr  Krantz's  wine  shop,"  he  insisted. 

"  Is  in  the  occupation  of  spies,"  retorted  the  Prin- 
cess. 

"  Then  what ?  " 


THE   BARGAIN  89 

"  The  Hotel  Concordia,"  proposed  the  Princess 
calmly. 

"  The  Hotel  Concordia ! "  he  -echoed. 

"Yes.  Your  sister  has  just  arrived  from  England 
and  wants  a  small  room  at  the  top  of  the  house.  Her 
luggage,  naturally,  has  gone  astray.  You  are  a  friend 
of  Herr  Saunders,  and  consequently  above  suspicion, 
Do  not  be  alarmed,  my  friend,  I  shall  leave  early  and 
I  will  pay  for  my  bed  and  breakfast." 

Trafford  tugged  each  moustache  violently  in  turn. 

"  So  be  it,"  he  said  at  length.  "  It  is  all  part  of 
the  bargain.  Come,  little  new-found  sister,  let  us  find 
a  sleigh  to  drive  us  to  the  Hotel  Concordia." 


CHAPTER  NINE 

THE    KING'S    BREAKFAST 

TJKE  most  members  of  the  kingly  caste,  Karl  XXII. 
was  a  big  eater  and  an  early  riser.  On  the  morning 
following  Trafford's  adventures  in  the  slums  of  Weid- 
enbruck,  the  genial  monarch  was  breakfasting  on  in- 
numerable fried  eggs  and  abundant  grilled  ham  at 
the  early  hour  of  seven.  He  was  dressed  in  high,  white 
leggings,  stout  boots,  and  a  dark  brown  woollen  jersey ; 
And  the  reason  of  his  athletic  attire  was  a  suggested 
ski-ing  expedition  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Nussheim, — 
a  small  village  some  ten  miles  distant  from  the  capital. 
His  Majesty  was  breakfasting  alone  save  for  his  faith- 
ful major-domo,  Herr  Bomcke,  an  old  gentleman  of 
great  dignity  and  superb  whiskers.  Bomcke  moved 
noiselessly  about  the  room,  with  one  eye  on  his  royal 
master's  needs,  and  the  other  on  the  doorway,  which 
was  guarded  by  a  young  officer  in  a  snow-white  uniform 
and  glistening  steel  cuirass.  The  apartment  itself  was 
the  moderate-sized  chamber  where  Karl  was  wont  to 
conduct  his  private  affairs.  In  one  corner  stood  a  sat- 
inwood  bureau  strewn  thick  with  papers ;  in  another  a 
marble  bust  of  his  father  on  a  malachite  pedestal.  Two 
entire  sides  of  the  room  were  devoted  to  book-shelves, 
which  contained  such  diverse  treasures  as  fifteenth-cen- 
tury bestiaries,  "  Alice  in  Wonderland,"  "  Moltke's 
History  of  the  Franco-Prussian  War,"  and  the  Bad- 
minton volume  on  "  Winter  Sports."  The  whole  of 

90 


THE    KING'S    BREAKFAST  91 

the  apartment  had  a  mellow  golden  tinge,  a  soft  at- 
mosphere of  affluent  homeliness  and  regal  respectability. 

Just  as  his  Majesty  was  consuming  his  fourth  roll 
and  honey,  there  was  a  whispeiing  in  the  doorway  and 
Saunders'  name  was  announced  in  the  mellifluous  tones 
of  the  major-domo. 

"  Good-morning,"  began  the  King.  "  You  are  ready 
for  our  expedition,  I  perceive." 

"  My  family  motto  is  semper  paratus — always 
ready,"  replied  Saunders  lightly.  "  But  I  understand 
our  train  does  not  start  for  Nussheim  till  8  A.  M.  I 
came  early  because  I  wished  to  talk  over  a  delicate  sit- 
uation with  you." 

"  Talk  away,"  said  the  King,  attacking  another  roll, 
and  draining  his  coffee  cup. 

"  The  Princess  Gloria  is  in  Weidenbruck." 

Karl  nodded  thoughtfully. 

"  And  her  address  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  did  not  want  to  know,  so  I  re- 
fused to  see  her  home  last  night." 

Again  the  King  nodded.  He  understood  his 
friend's  position  perfectly. 

"  The  Princess  Gloria "  he  began,  producing 

an  enormous  meerschaum  pipe,  and  proceeding  to  stuff 
it  with  some  dark  tobacco. 

"  Is  being  very  closely  watched,"  said  a  voice  from 
the  doorway.  It  was  General  Meyer,  who  had  entered 
unannounced,  as  was  his  privilege. 

"  And  how  about  Father  Bernhardt  ?  "  grunted  the 
King,  puffing  at  his  pipe  without  looking  up.  "  He 
has  been  closely  watched  for  some  time." 


92  GLORIA 

"  It  was  about  him  that  I  came  to  speak,"  said  the 
General,  walking  into  the  middle  of  the  room. 

"  You  have  taken  him,  of  course,"  said  the  King. 
"  I  told  you  to  employ  four  men." 

"  I  followed  your  Majesty's  advice,"  said  Meyer. 
"  I  was  wrong.  I  should  have  followed  Herr  Saunders'. 
He  advised,  if  I  remember  rightly,  a  battalion  of 
Guards  and  a  squadron  of  Dragoons." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  demanded  the  King,  with 
some  warmth,  "  that  four  armed  men  were  incapable 
of  dealing  with  one  priest  ?  " 

"  So  it  appears,"  returned  Meyer  calmly.  "  They 
say  there  was  some  sort  of  a  rescue.  That,  of  course, 
may  be  a  lie  to  excuse  their  failure.  Any  way,  one 
of  them  is  suffering  from  a  broken  thigh,  the  result  of 
a  fall  from  a  window.  Another  has  a  dislocated  jaw. 
Two  others, — who  pursued  our  friend  down  the  Sichel- 
gasse — were  foolish  enough  to  follow  him  along  the 
banks  of  the  Niederkessel.  Fortunately  they  could 
both  swim." 

The  King  turned  with  a  gesture  of  impatient  weari- 
ness to  Saunders. 

"What  do  you  say?  "  he  demanded. 

"Yes,  what  do  you  say?"  said  Meyer,  putting  up 
his  eyeglass  and  fixing  his  glance  on  the  Englishman. 

Saunders  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  that  there  evidently  must  have  been 
some  sort  of  a  rescue." 

"  A  most  determined  rescue,"  added  Meyer. 

"  A  most  determined  and  reckless  rescue,"  affirmed 
Saunders,  meeting  Meyer's  glance  without  flinching. 


THE    KING'S    BREAKFAST  93 

"  But  your  advice,  Saunders,"  said  the  King. 

"  I  gave  it  you  yesterday,  sire.  Act !  Hitherto 
we  have  schemed.  We  have  been  patting  the  mad  dog 
on  the  head,  but  as  he  still  shows  his  teeth, — shoot 
him!" 

"Who  is  the  'him'?"  demanded  Meyer.  "The 
sort  of  person  who  rescues  rebels  when  they  are  being 
arrested?  " 

"  By  mad  dog,"  explained  Saunders,  "  I  meant  the 
snarling,  discontented,  dangerous  element  in  Weiden- 
bruck.  We  have  had  plenty  of  clever  schemes  for 
pacification.  What  we  want  is  a  little  stupid 
brutality." 

"  Saunders  is  right,"  said  the  King.  "  In  theory 
I  am  a  Democrat,  a  Socialist,  a  believer  in  the  divinity 
of  the  vox  populi.  In  practice  I  am  a  believer  in 
platoon  firing  and  lettres  de  cachet.  There  are  only 
two  nations  in  Europe  who  are  genuinely  capable  of 
self-government,  and  Grimland  is  not  one  of  them.  We 
have  tried  the  velvet  glove,  and  we  must  show  that  it 
contains  a  hand  of  steel,  and  not  a  palsied  member." 

"  So  be  it,"  said  Meyer,  with  a  slight  inclination  of 
his  head.    "  We  will  give  the  policy  of  open  repression 
a  trial,  a  fair  trial  and  a  full  trial,  and  may  the  God 
of  Jews    and   Gentiles   teach  the  loyalists   to   shoot  ' 
straight." 

Saunders  scanned  Meyer's  face  critically.  There 
was  no  colour  in  his  sunken  cheek,  no  fire  in  his  heavy 
eye.  The  man  had  no  stomach  for  fighting,  and  his 
complex  nature  abhorred  straightforward  measures. 
Yet  he  had  proved  himself  a  faithful  servant  before. 


94  GLORIA 

and  though  life  meant  more  to  him  than  to  most 
soldiers,  he  was  not  one  to  purchase  personal  safety  by 
the  betrayal  of  his  sovereign. 

Again  Herr  Bomcke  upraised  his  honeyed  tones. 

"  Captain  von  Hiigelweiler,"  he  announced. 

The  Captain  bowed,  and  then  stood  at  the  salute. 

"Good-morning,  Captain,"  said  his  Majesty.  "To 
what  am  I  indebted  for  this  honour?  " 

"  I  wish  to  send  in  my  papers,  sire." 

"  You  wish  to  resign  ?  What  is  it  ?  Money 
troubles  ?  " 

The  Captain  hesitated. 

"  I  am  thinking  of  getting  married,  sire,"  he  an- 
swered at  length. 

"  Young  and  a  bachelor,"  said  the  King,  "  of  course 
you  are  thinking  of  getting  married.  That  is  very 
right  and  proper,  but  hardly  a  reason  for  sending  in 
your  papers." 

Again  Von  Hiigelweiler  was  at  a  loss  for  words, 
and  a  tinge  of  colour  mounted  to  his  olive  cheeks. 

"  I  am  tired  of  soldiering,"  he  said,  after  a  long 
struggle  for  thought. 

"  Meyer,"  said  the  King,  turning  to  his  Com- 
mander-in-Chief,  "  is  not  this  man  a  Von  Hiigelweiler?  " 

"  Yes,  your  Majesty.  A  member  of  one  of  the  oldest 
and  most  distinguished  families  in  your  kingdom  ?  " 

"  The  son  of  Heinrich  Salvator  von  Hiigelweiler, 
who  fought  in  the  trenches  in  '84? "  persisted  the 
monarch. 

Again  the  Commander-in-Chief  replied  in  the 
affirmative. 


THE   KING'S   BREAKFAST  95 

"  He  is  tired  of  my  service,  Meyer,"  went  on  the 
King  in  a  low  voice. 

Von  Hiigelweiler's  head  sank  onto  his  breast,  as  if 
weighed  down  with  shame. 

"Your  Majesty  can  be  served  in  more  ways  than 
one,"  he  murmured. 

"  But  in  none  so  well  as  by  the  sword,"  returned  the 
King.  "  When  an  officer  resigns  his  commission  on 
the  eve  of  war  we  call  him  by  an  ugly  name,  Cap- 
tain." 

"  But  we  are  not  on  the  eve  of  war,  sire,"  expostu- 
lated the  poor  Captain. 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Karl,  "  I  think  otherwise." 

"  If  there  is  fighting,  sire,  my  sword  is  at  your 
service." 

"  There  is  fighting  and  fighting,"  mused  the  Kingv 
"  Fighting  in  the  long-drawn  firing-line  with  your 
nearest  comrade  ten  yards  distant,  and  your  nearest 
foe  a  mile  off ;  and  there  is  fighting  in  the  narrow  street 
with  your  company  shoulder  to  shoulder,  and  the 
enemy  at  the  end  of  your  swordpoint.  The  former 
needs  courage,  but  the  latter  needs  courage  and  a  loyal 
heart.  Do  I  make  myself  clear,  Captain  von 
Hiigelweiler?  " 

Von  Hiigelweiler  straightened  himself.  Life's  prob- 
lems seemed  very  puzzling  just  now.  He  had  acted 
from  the  best  motives  in  tendering  his  resignation,  for 
if  he  decided  to  aid  and  abet  the  King's  enemies,  he 
preferred  not  to  do  so  in  the  King's  uniform.  But  the 
instincts  of  a  soldier  and  certain  splendid  traditions 
of  his  family  warred  hard  with  his  desires. 


96  GLORIA 

"  I  understand  my  resignation  is  not  acceptable, 
jour  Majesty,"  he  said  at  length. 

"  I  neither  refuse  it  nor  accept  it,"  said  Karl. 
•"  This  morning  I  am  going  ski-ing  to  Nussheim.  I 
need  protection  these  troublous  times,  and  I  am  taking 
my  Commander-in-Chief  with  me.  I  am  taking  Herr 
Saunders,  who  is  a  deadly  revolver  shot;  I  am  also 
taking  Mrs.  Saunders,  who  has  nerves  of  steel  and  the 
heart  of  an  Amazon.  Will  you  make  assurance  doubly 
sure  and  form  part  of  my  body-guard  to  Nussheim?  " 

Von  Hiigelweiler's  eyes  flashed  proudly  at  the 
honour,  and  his  hand  went  to  the  hilt  of  his  sword. 

"  Your  Majesty's  safety  shall  be  on  my  head,"  he 
said. 


CHAPTER  TEN 

A    SKI-ING    EXPEDITION 

WEIDENBRUCK  lies  in  the  wildest  part  of  the  valley  of 
the  Niederkessel.  On  either  side, — at  the  distance  of 
several  miles — rise  mountains  of  picturesque  outline  and 
considerable  eminence.  Prominent  among  these  stands 
the  Piz  Schadel,  a  grim  giant  with  a  fatal  fascination 
for  those  who  affect  dangerous  rock-climbing.  It  is  on 
the  lower  slopes  of  the  Piz  Schadel, — snug  among  its 
pinewoods,  and  facing  southwards  to  the  sun, — that 
the  tiny  village  of  Nussheim  is  situated.  The  little 
train  that  plies  between  the  capital  and  this  sunny 
hamlet  was  fairly  crowded, — despite  the  earliness  of 
the  hour — for  ski-running  is  a  favourite  amusement 
of  Grimlanders,  and  the  slopes  of  Nussheim  offer  an 
ideal  ground  for  the  exercise  of  that  exhilarating 
pastime.  The  royal  party  had  a  carriage  to  them- 
selves, and  in  due  course  they  steamed  through  the 
outskirts  of  Weidenbruck,  across  the  flat,  snow-covered 
plains  of  the  valley,  and  then  mounted  by  means  of  a 
cog-wheel  and  a  centre  rail,  to  the  little  yellow  station 
that  was  their  objective.  A  party  of  tourists  in  blue 
glasses  and  check  ulsters — Americans,  to  judge  from 
the  accent  and  phraseology  of  their  leader,  a  tall  black- 
bearded  man  with  a  Baedeker — got  out  at  Nussheim 
and  proceeded  to  the  local  hostelry.  The  King  and  his 
companions  repaired  to  a  small  chalet,  where  their  skis 
were  awaiting  them.  Having  shod  themselves  with 

97 


98  GLORIA 

their  long  footgear,  they  sallied  forth  on  to  the  snow. 
The  sun  was  just  rising  above  the  opposite  mountains, 
and  the  scene  was  one  of  quite  extraordinary  beauty. 
The  air  was  still  and  crisp  and  invigorating,  but  so 
dry  on  this  elevated  plateau  that  there  was  no  sensa- 
tion of  cold,  though  the  thermometer  gave  a  far  lower 
reading  than  at  Weidenbruck.  The  sky  was  purest 
ultra-marine,  and  in  the  perfect  air  every  detail  of  the 
surrounding  hills,  forest,  crag,  and  hamlet,  stood  out 
with  soft  distinctness.  And  everywhere  was  snow  and 
the  silence  of  the  snows ;  white  fields  of  sparkling 
purity  swelling  and  falling  in  smooth  stretches  of  shim- 
mering argent.  Above  were  dun  precipices  and  dark 
green  woods  of  larch  and  fir,  and  above,  again,  fairy 
snow-peaks,  showing  like  dabs  of  Chinese  white  against 
the  cloudless  glory  of  the  sky.  It  was  a  day  to  live 
and  be  thankful  for  life;  a  day  for  deep  breath  and 
noble  thoughts,  a  day  to  take  one's  troubles  to  Nature 
and  lose  them  in  the  splendid  silence  of  her  hills  and  the 
vastness  of  her  immaculate  snows. 

The  royal  party  of  five  shuffled  along  on  their  wooden 
footgear  till  they  came  to  a  long  dip  with  a  gentle  rise 
at  the  end  of  it.  Karl  was  the  first  to  essay  the  descent. 
With  knees  slightly  bent,  one  foot  slightly  in  front 
of  the  other,  his  burly  body  noticeably  inclined  for- 
ward, he  started  on  his  downward  course.  For  a  second 
or  two  he  moved  slowly.  Then  the  pace  increased  till 
he  was  travelling  at  a  sharp  speed ;  then,  as  the  momen- 
tum grew,  and  the  angle  of  the  hillside  sharpened,  he 
fairly  flew  through  the  air  in  the  swift,  smooth  rush 
that  brings  joy  to  the  heart  of  the  ski-runner.  At  the 


A    SKI-ING    EXPEDITION  99 

bottom  he  got  into  some  soft  snow,  and  after  a  fruit- 
less struggle  with  the  laws  of  gravity,  the  royal 
equipoise  was  overcome,  and  Karl  lay  prone  and  buried 
in  the  gleaming  crystals.  A  roar  of  delight  burst 
from  his  companions  above,  and  a  ski-shod  foot  was 
waved  answeringly  in  the  air  in  plaintive  rebuke  at 
their  merriment. 

Mrs.  Saunders  was  the  next  to  come  down.  With 
perfect  balance, — relying  not  at  all  on  her  guiding 
stick, — she  swept  down  the  mountain-side  like  a 
Valkyrie.  With  grey  eyes  shining  with  pleasure, 
wisps  of  fair  hair  streaming  from  under  her  woollen 
beret,  she  seemed  the  embodiment  of  graceful  and 
athletic  young  womanhood.  Her  course  was  taking 
her  direct  on  to  the  prostrate  monarch,  but  at  the 
critical  moment  she  swung  round  with  a  superb  Tele- 
mark  turn,  and  halted  to  watch  Karl's  desperate  efforts 
to  regain  an  upright  position. 

The  others  descended  in  turn  with  varying  elegance 
but  without  serious  mishap,  Von  Hiigelweiler  bringing 
up  the  rear  and  nearly  injuring  his  sovereign  whom 
he  had  sworn  so  solemnly  to  defend.  Onward  they 
went  again,  shuffling  along  levels,  gliding  down  de- 
scents, mounting  laboriously  sideways,  like  crabs,  when 
it  was  necessary  to  reach  higher  ground.  In  the  pleas- 
urable absorption  of  their  sport  they  wandered  far, 
ever  gaining  fresh  joys  of  swift  descent  or  harmless 
fall,  and  winning  fresh  views  of  plain  and  wood  and 
mountain. 

"  There  go  the  Americans,"  said  the  King  to  Mrs. 
Saunders.  "  They  have  been  travelling  parallel  to  us." 


100  GLORIA 

,-% 

The  King's  party  had  collected  under  a  mutual  de- 
sire for  rest,  by  a  crop  of  boulders  which  broke  through 
the  level  surface  of  the  snows. 

"  Parallel  to  us,"  agreed  Meyer,  mopping  his  humid 
face,  "  but  I  notice  that  they  always  manoeuvre  for  the 
upper  ground." 

The  King  frowned  at  the  General's  speech.  He  was 
enjoying  the  morning's  relaxation  from  his  usual 
worries,  and  Meyer's  words, — if  they  had  any  meaning 
at  all, — suggested  personal  danger  to  himself  and  his 
friends. 

"  They  are  excellent  ski-runners,"  said  Mrs.  Saunders, 
watching  them  as  they  moved  rapidly  to  a  point  of  the 
hill  above  them. 

But  Meyer  was  whispering  something  in  the  King's 
ear,  and  a  vague  sense  of  apprehension  had  taken  the 
party. 

Karl  nodded,  as  one  convinced  against  his  will,  and 
spoke  briefly  to  the  company. 

"  General  Meyer  suggests  that  those  people  may 
not  be  quite  so  harmless  as  they  seem,"  he  said.  "  Per- 
sonally, I  think  he  is  over-suspicious,  but  in  order  to 
be  on  the  safe  side,  I  propose  doubling  back  down  the 
hill,  and  if  they  turn,  too,  and  follow  us,  we  will  assume 
the  worst." 

The  others  received  the  statement  in  silence. 

The  gorgeous  splendour  of  the  day  and  the  un- 
matched loveliness  of  the  scene  seemed  to  mock  the 
timidity  of  the  Commander-in-Chief's  imaginings.  But 
all  present  were  too  familiar  with  Grimland  politics  to 
question  the  prudence  of  the  King's  decision ;  and  with 


A   SKI-ING   EXPEDITION  101 

scarce  a  backward  glance  they  turned  round  and  fol- 
lowed General  Meyer  down  the  hillside.  Presently  they 
reached  a  cliff  of  brown  rock  which  broke  the  slope 
of  the  mountain  with  a  precipitous  drop  of  some  twenty 
feet.  Beneath  this  and  parallel  to  it  Meyer  decided 
to  proceed,  till  the  King  called  a  halt  for  purposes  of 
reconnoitering. 

Far  below  them  lay  the  valley  of  the  Niederkessel, 
and  plainly  discernible  were  the  tiny  houses  and  toy 
churches  of  the  capital.  But  above  them  it  was  im- 
possible to  see  anything  except  the  golden-brown  wall 
of  rock  which  they  were  following. 

As  swiftly  as  the  operation  permitted,  Meyer  slipped 
off  his  skis,  bidding  Von  Hiigelweiler  do  the  same. 
The  Captain  was  then  told  to  stand  leaning  against 
the  cliff,  whereupon  the  Commander-in-Chief  clambered 
bravely  on  to  his  shoulders.  Then  with  an  agility 
remarkable  for  his  years,  he  drew  himself  up  to  the 
ledge  of  rock  from  which  it  was  possible  to  overlook 
the  top  of  the  cliff.  He  gazed  for  a  moment  with 
peering  eyes,  the  others  watching  with  silent  interest. 
Then  he  came  down  in  a  flash.  "  Skis  on  again,  Cap- 
tain," he  said,  kneeling  down  and  inserting  his  foot 
in  the  shoe  of  his  own  ski.  "  We  must  run  for 
it." 

"  Who  are  they  ?  "  demanded  the  King. 

"  There  are  six  of  them,  sire,"  answered  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief, tugging  viciously  at  a  refractory 
strap.  "  They  are  about  five  hundred  yards  up  the 
hillside,  and  the  man  in  the  beard  is  Father 
Bernhardt ! " 


102  GLORIA 

"Father  Bernhardt  in  the  beard!"  ejaculated  the 
others. 

"  In  a  false  beard,"  affirmed  Meyer.  "  He  has  had 
a  fall,  and  one  side  has  come  unhooked.  It's  the  ex- 
priest,  sure  enough,  and  full  of  vengeance  for  his  last 
night's  inconvenience.  We'd  better  move  at  once." 

Karl  hesitated  a  moment. 

"  I  don't  like  running  away,"  he  said,  glancing  at 
Saunders  and  Von  Hiigelweiler. 

"  I  do,"  retorted  Meyer,  "  when  it's  six  to  four  in 
their  favour.  Come  sire,  we  shall  never  get  a  better 
chance  than  this.  They  can't  follow  us  direct,  be- 
cause of  this  cliff,  and  while  they  are  making  a  detour 
we  will  push  on  to  some  spot  on  the  railway,  and  hold 
up  a  train  to  take  us  back  to  Weidenbruck." 

"  The  General's  right,"  said  Saunders,  seeing  the 
King  hesitate.  "  We  have  a  lady  with  us." 

"  Who  is  not  in  the  least  afraid,"  added  the  lady 
in  question. 

"  That  is  precisely  the  trouble,"  said  Saunders. 

"  Forward,  sire ! "  urged  Meyer,  making  a  move. 
"  I  will  lead  the  way,  and  you  and  Mrs.  Saunders  will 
accompany  me.  Von  Hiigelweiler  and  Herr  Saunders 
will  bring  up  the  rear." 

"The  post  of  honour!"  commented  the  King. 

"  If  you  will,"  said  Meyer  with  a  shrug.  "  I  go  first 
because  I  know  the  countryside.  I  am  more  useful  so. 
Saunders  stays  behind  because  he  is  the  best  shot." 

"  A  gallant  fellow,  our  Commander-in-Chief," 
sneered  Von  Hiigelweiler  to  Saunders,  as  the  three 
others  glided  rapidly  away  down  the  snow-slope.  The 


A    SKI-ING    EXPEDITION  103 

crack  of  a  rifle  punctuated  the  Captain's  remark. 
Saunders  waited  to  make  sure  that  neither  his  wife  nor 
her  escort  was  touched,  and  then  produced  a  revolver. 

"  I  am  glad  Meyer  has  gone  on  with  them,"  he  said. 
"  He  is  a  clever  old  fox,  and  he  knows  every  cliff  and 
cranny  in  the  countryside." 

Another  shot  rang  out,  but  this  too  failed  to  take 
effect,  and  in  a  twinkling  the  fugitives  had  disappeared 
into  the  friendly  shelter  of  a  pine  wood. 

Saunders  wore  a  pensive  air,  in  marked  contrast 
to  Von  Hiigelweiler,  who  was  betraying  signs  of  strong 
excitement. 

"  Of  what  are  you  thinking?  "  demanded  the  latter. 

"  I  am  thinking  that  if  we  follow  the  others  we 
shall  most  certainly  be  shot,"  replied  Saunders. 

*'  That  is  true,"  agreed  the  Captain.  "  Our  enemies 
must  be  quite  close  now.  It  would  be  madness  to 
venture  out  into  the  open." 

"  Precisely,"  said  Saunders*  "  IWe  ale  Heft  here 
as  a  rear-guard,  and  it  is  our  duty  to  cheek  the  pur- 
suit, not  to  be  killed.  Here  we  are  under  cover,  and 
here  I  propose  to  remain." 

"  The  enemy  will  make  a  detour  to  avoid  this  cliff," 
said  Von  Hiigelweiler,  *'  then  will  come  our  oppor- 
tunity to  move  out." 

Saunders  shook  his  head. 

"  This  cliff  stretches  half  a  mile  at  least,  in  either 
direction,"  he  said,  "  and  there  is  broken  ground  be- 
yond that.  No,  they  won't  make  a  detour,  not  if 
they're  the  good  ski-runners  I  take  them  for.  To  a 
clever  ski-laufer,  a  jump  over  a  cliff  like  this  is  no 


104  GLORIA 

very  desperate  affair,  and  it's  their  only  chance  of 
nabbing  Karl  before  he  gets  back  to  Weidenbruck." 

"  Then  we  wait  here  and  fire  at  them  from  behind  ?  " 
demanded  the  Captain  excitedly,  taking  his  orders  from 
the  distinguished  Englishman  as  a  matter  of  course. 

"  We  pot  them  as  they  come  over — like  pheasants," 
said  Saunders. 

There  was  a  smile  on  his  face,  not  at  the  prospect 
of  taking  human  life,  still  less  at  the  chance  of  losing 
his  own;  for  Saunders  was  not  one  to  welcome  danger 
for  its  own  sake,  though  he  could  always  meet  it  with 
coolness  and  resource.  He  was  thinking,  just  then, 
of  Trafford,  and  how  willingly  his  excitable  friend 
would  have  changed  places  with  them,  how  jealous  and 
annoyed  he  would  be  at  learning  that  he,  Saunders, 
had  again  the  luck  to  be  in  the  thick  of  a  desperate 
affair.  Von  Hiigelweiler  noted  the  smile  with  admira- 
tion. Saunders  was  one  who  had  a  big  hold  on  the 
popular  imagination  of  Grimland,  and  the  Captain 
was  proud  to  be  associated  with  him  in  an  enterprise 
of  this  sort.  His  divided  loyalty  to  the  King  and 
Princess  was  quite  forgotten  in  the  exigencies  of  the 
situation.  He  had  a  plain  duty  to  perform, — and  he 
hoped  to  perform  it  creditably  in  the  eyes  of  the  cool, 
smiling  Englishman  who  had  won  such  fame  in  the 
stirring  winter  of  1904?. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  slight  scuffling  sound  in  the 
snow  above,  and  a  second  later  something  dark  came 
over  their  heads  like  an  enormous  bird.  It  was  one 
of  their  pursuers,  a  braced,  rigid  figure  travelling 
through  the  air  with  the  grace  and  poise  of  a  skilled 


A   SKI-ING   EXPEDITION  105 

ski- jumper.  Saunders  raised  a  steady  hand  and  fired. 
Simultaneously  the  human  projectile  collapsed  into  a 
limp  and  shapeless  mass  and  fell  with  a  dead  plump 
into  a  cloud  of  snow.  A  second  later  and  another  ski- 
jumper  had  darkened  the  heavens  above  them.  He 
had  heard  the  crack  and  seen  his  comrade  fall,  but  it 
was  too  late  to  stop  his  progress.  He  turned  a 
swarthy  face  with  black  eyes  full  of  terror,  and  again 
Saunders'  revolver  spoke,  and  with  a  dull  groan  the 
man  fell  spread-eagled  in  the  snow  within  a  yard  of  his 
companion. 

**  Bravo !  Englander,"  muttered  Von  Hiigelweiler, 
his  eyes  bright  with  excitement,  his  fingers  nervously 
clutching  the  butt  of  his  own  weapon. 

But  Saunders'  eyes  were  cast  upwards  at  the  jagged 
edge  of  the  cliff  above  their  heads.  After  a  wait  of 
some  moments  the  face  of  a  man  peered  over  the  sky- 
line. Instantaneously  Saunders  covered  it  with  his 
revolver.  But  the  face  remained,  and  a  voice — the 
yoice  of  Father  Bernhardt — spoke. 

"  Don't  fire,  Herr  Saunders !  " 

Saunders  remained  fixed  and  tranquil  as  a  statue. 

"  You  have  killed  two  of  my  men,  Englishman,"  went 
on  the  ex-priest. 

"  I  think  not,"  returned  Saunders  calmly.  "  The 
second  man  was  only  wounded  in  the  thigh." 

"  I  should  be  justified  in  taking  your  life  for  this," 
continued  Father  Bernhardt. 

"  Perfectly,"  agreed  Saunders  with  composure,  "  but 
you  will  find  the  proceeding  difficult  and  rather 
dangerous." 


106  GLORIA 

A  low  laugh  followed  Saunders'  words. 

"  That's  the  sjnrit  I  admire !"  cried  the  outlaw. 
"  There's  a  dash  of  the  devil  about  that — and  the 
devil,  you  know,  is  a  particular  friend  of  mine." 

"  So  I  have  been  led  to  understand,"  said  Saunders 
drily. 

Again  the  outlaw  laughed. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  will  you  make  a  truce  with  us  ? 
We  could  probably  kill  you  and  your  friend  there, 
but  we  should  lose  a  man  or  two  in  the  killing.  Make 
truce,  and  we  give  you  a  free  return  to  Weidenbruck, 
or  wherever  you  choose  to  go.  Your  friend  Karl  has 
got  away  safely  now, — thanks  to  your  infernal  coolness, 
— so  you  can  make  peace  with  honour." 

Saunders  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  If  my  friend,  Captain  von  Hiigelweiler,  agrees," 
he  said,  "  I  consent.  Only  there  must  be  no  further 
pursuit  of  us  or  the  royal  party." 

"  I  give  my  word,"  said  Bernhardt. 

"  Can  we  trust  it  ?  "  whispered  Von  Hiigelweiler. 
But  the  ex-priest  overheard,  and  for  answer  clambered 
down  the  cliff  beside  them. 

Von  Hiigelweiler  was  no  coward,  but  something 
made  him  give  ground  before  the  strange  individual 
who  confronted  him.  A  man  of  medium  height  and 
compact  build,  there  was  a  suggestion  of  great  mus- 
cularity about  the  outlaw's  person.  But  it  was  the 
face  rather  than  the  body  which  compelled  attention. 
The  clean-carved,  aquiline  features,  the  black,  bushy 
eyebrows,  the  piercing  eyes,  and  the  strange,  restless 


A   SKI-ING   EXPEDITION  107 

light  that  played  in  them,  made  up  a  personality  that 
set  the  turbulent  rebel  as  a  man  apart  from  his  fellows. 

"  Now,  then,"  he  said,  thrusting  his  face  into  Von 
Hiigelweiler's,  "  shoot  me,  and  earn  the  eternal  grati- 
tude of  your  sovereign." 

Again  the  Captain  gave  ground,  though  his  timidity 
shamed  and  irritated  him. 

"  I  am  not  a  murderer,"  he  said,  flushing.  "  You 
come  to  parley,  I  imagine." 

"  I  come  to  shake  Saunders  by  the  hand,"  said  the 
outlaw,  turning  and  stretching  out  a  sudden  hand  to 
the  Englishman.  "  He  is  a  man,  a  stubborn  fellow, 
with  a  brain  of  ice  and  nerves  of  tested  steel.  I  would 
sooner  have  him  on  my  side  than  a  pack  of  artillery 
and  the  whole  brigade  of  Guards." 

"  You  flatter  me,"  said  Saunders,  taking  the  prof- 
fered hand.  "  I  am  a  man  of  peace." 

'*  How  lovely  are  the  feet  of  them  that  bring  us 
good  tidings  of  peace,"  said  the  outlaw  with  a  scornful 
laugh.  "  Behold  Satin  also  can  quote  the  Scriptures ! 
When  I  sold  my  soul  three  years  ago  to  the  Father 
of  Lies  I  drove  a  fine  bargain.  I  took  a  Queen  to  wife 
— such  a  Queen,  such  a  wife!  And  my  good  friends 
Ahriman,  the  Prince  of  Darkness,  and  Archmedai,  the 
Demon  of  Lust,  have  given  me  strength  and  health 
and  cunning  beyond  my  fellows,  so  that  no  man  can 
bind  me  or  prevail  against  me.  They  never  leave  me 
long,  these  good  fiends.  It  was  one  of  them  who 
warned  me  not  to  lead  the  pursuit  of  Karl  over  this  bit 
of  cliff." 


108  GLORIA 

Von  Hiigelweiler  shuddered,  but  Saunders  looked  the 
outlaw  steadily  in  the  face. 

"  Your  nerves  are  out  of  gear,  Bernhardt,"  he  said. 
"  Did  you  ever  try  bromide  ?  " 

"I've  tried  asceticism  and  I've  tried  debauchery," 
was  the  leering  answer,  "  and  they  both  vouchsafe 
visions  of  the  evil  one.  When  I  was  a  priest  I  lived  as 
a  priest :  I  scourged  myself  and  fasted ;  but  the  Prince 
of  Power  of  the  Air  was  never  far  from  me.  And  now 
that  I  am  of  the  world,  worldly,  a  sinner  of  strange 
sins,  a  blasphemer,  and  a  wine-bibber,  Diabolus  and  his 
satellites  are  in  even  more  constant  attendance  on  me. 
Perhaps  I  am  mad,  or  perhaps  they  are  there  for  such 
as  me  to  see." 

"  I'd  chance  the  former  alternative  and  see  a  brain 
specialist,"  suggested  Saunders.  "  It  might  save  a 
deal  of  wasted  blood  and  treasure  to  Grimland." 

"  There  is  no  healing  for  a  damned  soul,"  said  Bern- 
hardt fiercely.  "  I  saw  strange  things  before  I  drank 
the  libidinous  cup  of  Tobit.  I  see  them  now.  Saint  or 
sinner,  my  eyes  have  been  opened  to  the  unclean  hosts 
of  Beelzebub." 

Saunders  offered  the  unhappy  man  a  cigarette. 

"  Saints  and  sinners  generally  do  see  things,"  he 
said  dispassionately.  "  I  am  neither,  and  my  vision 
is  normal.  If  you  would  live  a  reasonable  life  for  six 
months  you  might  become  a  useful  member  of  society 
instead  of  a  devil-ridden  firebrand.  Fasting  is  bad 
and  excess  is  bad.  One  starves  the  brain,  the  other 
gluts  it.  Both  lead  to  hallucinations.  Take  hold  of 
life  with  both  hands  and  be  a  man  with  normal  appe- 


A   SKI-ING   EXPEDITION  109 

tites  and  reasonable  relaxations,  and  you  will  have  men 
and  women  for  friends,  not  the  unclean  spawn  of  over- 
stimulated  brain-cells." 

A  puzzled  look  crept  into  Father  Bernhardt's  eyes. 
Then  he  shook  his  head  firmly. 

"  I  won't  talk  to  you  any  more,"  he  cried  angrily. 
"  I  hate  talking  to  you.  I  hate  your  cursed  English 
common  sense.  If  I  saw  much  of  you  I'd  lose  all  the 
savour  of  life.  I'd  be  a  decent,  law-abiding  citizen, 
and  miss  all  the  thrills  and  torments  of  a  man  fire- 
doomed." 

"  A  good  conscience  is  not  a  bad  thing,"  said  Saun- 
ciers,  "  and  a  man  at  peace  with  himself  is  king  of  a 
fine  country.  You're  a  youngish  man,  Bernhardt,  and 
the  world's  before  you.  Give  up  listening  to  devils, 
and  the  devils  will  give  up  talking  to  you.  Go  on 
listening  to  them  and  the  fine  balances  of  sanity  will 
be  overthrown  for  ever." 

"  Silence ! "  cried  the  ex-priest,  thrusting  his  fingers 
in  his  ears.  "  Would  you  rob  me  even  of  my  remain- 
ing joys?  For  such  as  me  there  is  no  peace.  I  have 
my  mission,  and  by  the  devil's  aid  I  must  perform  it ! " 

"  We  all  have  missions,"  retorted  Saunders.  "  Mine 
apparently  is  to  preserve  Karl  from  assassination.  I 
don't  boast  a  body-guard  of  demons,  but  I'll  back  my; 
luck  against  yours,  Father  Bernhardt." 

The  outlaw  smiled  again  at  these  words. 

"  Good-bye,  Englishman,"  he  said,  "  I  love  you  for 
your  courage.  Go  in  peace,"  he  went  on,  shaking 
him  by  the  hand,  but  ignoring  Von  Hiigelweiler  alto- 
gether. "  But  take  heed  to  yourself,  for  you  are 


110  GLORIA 

pitting  yourself  against  a  man  who  is  neither  wholly 
sane  nor  wholly  mad,  and  therefore  entirely  to  be 
feared.  Good-bye,  and  tell  the  Jew  Meyer  that  to- 
night I  am  dwelling  in  the  Goose-market,  at  the  house 
of  Fritz  Birnbaum,  the  cobbler.  Let  him  send  to  take 
me  and  see  whether  he  is  stronger  than  my  dear  allies, 
Archmedai  and  Ahriman." 

"  I  will  make  a  point  of  doing  so,"  said  Saunders, 
preparing  to  depart,  "  and  I  will  lay  a  shade  of  odds 
on  the  Jew." 


CHAPTER  ELEVEN 

THE    IEON    MAIDEN 

,  WHILE  the  Englishman  was  ski-running  and  saving  the 
King's  life,  the  American  had  spent  an  uneventful 
morning  seeing  the  sights  of  the  capital.  Acting  on 
his  friend's  advice  he  had  visited  the  Reichs  Museum, 
wherein  were  housed  some  extremely  old  Masters,  some 
indifferent  modern  sculpture,  and  a  wholly  admirable 
collection  of  engravings  by  Albrecht  Diirer.  But 
Trafford's  mind  had  wandered  from  pre-Raphaelite 
anatomy  and  marble  modernities  to  a  pair  of  dark 
eyes,  a  finely  chiselled  little  nose,  and  a  diminutive 
mouth,  that  were  utterly  unlike  anything  depicted  by 
Botticelli,  Fra  Angelo,  or  the  great  Bavarian  engraver. 
Art  had  never  held  an  important  place  in  his  mind, 
and  on  this  fine  January  morning  it  competed  feebly 
with  a  certain  restless  longing  that  had  stolen  over  his 
ill-balanced  nervous  system,  to  the  domination  of  his 
thoughts  and  the  destruction  of  his  critical  faculties. 
He  desired  to  be  out  in  the  open  air,  and  he  desired  to 
see,  and  touch,  and  speak  with  a  certain  young  woman 
who  had  passed  herself  off  as  his  sister  at  his  hotel, 
but  who  had  disappeared  into  thin  air  long  before  he 
had  tasted  his  petit  dejeuner  of  coffee  and  rolls.  It 
was  not,  he  told  himself,  that  he  was  in  love.  Love, — 
as  he  conceived  it, — was  something  akin  to  worship, 
a  regard  pure  as  the  snows,  passionless  almost  in  its 

111 


GLORIA1 

humility  and  reverence.  For  one  woman  he  had  felt 
that  marvellous  adoration ;  he  would  never  feel  it  again 
for  any  woman'  in  the  world.  But  beauty  appeals 
even  to  those  who  have  suffered  at  beauty's  hands,  and 
the  Princess  Gloria  was  a  maiden  of  such  bewildering 
moods,  so  compounded  of  laughter  and  fierceness,  of 
such  human  pathos  and  relentless  purpose,  that  she 
was  bound  to  have  a  disturbing  effect  on  so  responsive 
and  sensitive  a  soul  as  his.  He  acknowledged  the  ob- 
session, for  it  was  patent  and  paramount.  But  he 
told  himself  that  in  his  regard  there  were  no  deeps, 
certainly  no  worship ;  merely  a  desire  to  cultivate  an 
attractive  young  woman  whose  habitual  behaviour  was 
as  heedless  of  the  conventions  as  his  own. 

But  this  desire  took  him  out  of  the  long  galleries 
of  the  Reichs  Museum  into  the  slums  of  Weidenbruck, 
into  the  purlieus  of  the  Goose-market  and  the  Grass- 
market,  and  into  the  network  of  narrow  alleys  round 
about  the  Schugasse.  But  the  face  and  figure  that 
were  in  his  mind's  eye  refused  to  grace  his  bodily  sight, 
and  so, — having  lost  himself  half  a  dozen  times  and 
gained  a  magnificent  appetite, — he  took  a  sleigh  and 
drove  back  to  the  Hotel  Concordia. 

In  the  middle  of  his  meal  Saunders  arrived,  and  told 
him  at  full  length  of  his  morning's  adventures.  And, 
as  Saunders  had  expected,  Trafford's  disappointment 
at  having  missed  the  exhilarating  rencontre  with  Father 
Bernhardt  was  palpable  and  forcibly  expressed. 

"  Confound  your  beastly  luck !  "  he  said.  "  And,  I 
suppose, — thanks  to  your  brilliant  shooting,  and  tact- 
ful diplomacy, — the  King  got  away." 


THE   IRON   MAIDEN  113 

"  He  got  home  safely  with  my  wife  and  General 
Meyer  three-quarters  of  an  hour  before  I  did,"  re- 
plied Saunders,  ignoring  the  sarcasm.  "  They  held 
up  a  train  on  the  big  stone  viaduct,  and  I  and  Von 
Hiigelweiler  tapped  one  at  a  small  station  called  Hen- 
duck.  It  is  a  pity  you  were  not  with  us,  Nervy." 

Trafford  ground  his  teeth.  His  companion  was  very 
irritating. 

1   "  What  about  this   afternoon  ? "  he  asked  despair- 
ingly. 

"  I'm  afraid  there  won't  be  any  excitements  this 
afternoon,"  replied  Saunders  blandly.  "  I've  got  to 
accompany  Karl  to  a  bazaar  in  aid  of  distressed  gentle- 
women. As  you  are  dining  to-night  at  the  palace,  we 
shall,  of  course,  meet.  Au  revoir  till  then.  You  might 
well  have  another  look  at  those  Diirers." 

"  D the  Diirers !  "  said  Trafford  angrily,  as  his 

friend  left  the  dining-room.  "  And  hang  Saunders  for 
a  selfish  brute !  "  he  added  to  himself.  "  He  lures  me 
out  to  this  infernal  country,  and  then  sends  me  to 
picture  galleries  and  museums  while  he  shoots  people 
'ski-jumping  over  his  head."  And  with  the  air  of  an 
aggrieved  man  Trafford  kindled  an  enormous  cigar 
and  sauntered  forth  into  the  hall. 

As  he  did  so,  he  was  approached  by  the  concierge. 

"  A  letter,  mein  Herr,"  said  the  official :  "  a  mes- 
senger left  it  a  moment  ago." 

Trafford  took  it,  and  as  he  read  his  eyes  opened  in 
astonishment,  and  his  mouth  in  satisfaction. 

" Dear  Herr  Trafford"  it  ran.  "  This  is  to  thank 
you  for  what  you  did  for  me  last  night.  You  fight  as 


Ill  GBORIA 

well  as  you  skate — and  that  is  saying  much.  If  you 
will  meet  me  at  the  Collection  of  Instruments  of  Tor' 
ture  in  the  Strafeburg  at  three  o'clock  this  afternoon, 
I  shall  try  to  be  as  fascinating  as  you  could  wish  me — 
and  take  back  any  unkind  word  I  may  have  spoken. 

G.  V.  S." 

Trafford  chuckled  to  himself.  After  all,  he  re- 
flected, Saunders  was  not  having  all  the  fun.  He  had 
not  mentioned  his  adventures  of  the  previous  evening 
to  his  friend,  because  he  knew  that  Saunders  would 
disapprove  of  his  action  in  abetting  Karl's  enemies. 
H'e,  however,  was  a  free  lance,  and  if  he  was  not  per- 
mitted to  save  the  King's  life,  he  might  as  well  devote 
his  energies  to  the  equally  romantic  task  of  protecting 
the  rebel  Princess.  And  in  his  rapture  at  the  unfold- 
ing prospect  of  unlimited  fracas,  he  chuckled  audibly. 

Then,  turning  somewhat  abruptly,  he  bumped  into 
a  gentleman,  who  must  have  been  standing  extremely 
close  behind  him.  Instinctively  he  thrust  his  letter 
into  his  pocket,  realising  that  the  missive  was  not 
merely  a  private  but  a  secret  one.  H'e  half-feared 
that  the  person  into  whom  he  had  cannoned, — and 
whose  approach  he  ought  to  have  heard  on  the  marble- 
paved  hall, — might  have  been  covertly  reading  his 
letter  over  his  shoulder;  nor  was  he  particularly  reas- 
sured at  finding  that  the  individual  in  question  was 
none  other  than  General  Meyer. 

"  I  beg  your  'pardon,"  began  the  Commander-in~ 
Chief,  "  but  I  was  not  quite  sure  that  it  was  you,  as  I 
could  not  see  your  face  while  you  were  reading  your 
letter." 


THE   IRON   MAIDEN  115 

"  My  fault  entirely,"  said  Trafford  genially. 
"  Were  you  looking  for  me?  " 

"  I  was.  I  came  to  say  that  the  command  which  his 
Majesty  graciously  issued  to  you  to  dine  with  him  to- 
night is  also  extended  to  your  sister." 

"  My  sister !  "  repeated  Trafford,  in  dazed  accents. 

Meyer  smiled  at  the  other's  mystification.  "  I  was 
informed  at  the  bureau  that  your  sister  was  staying 
at  the  hotel  with  you,"  he  said  blandly. 

Instantly  the  fraud  of  the  previous  evening  returned 
to  Trafford's  memory. 

"  She  spent  last  night  at  the  hotel,"  he  said,  "  but 
she  left  early  this  morning." 

"  A  brief  visit !  "  was  the  General's  comment. 

"  Extremely !  She  is  on  her  way  to  Vienna.  She — 
she  took  the  opportunity  of  paying  me  a  flying  visit 
to  see  me  compete  for  the  King's  Cup  on  the  Rundsee. 
She  went  on  by  the  8 :35  this  morning." 

Meyer  nodded,  as  if  appreciating  the  other's 
glibness. 

"  Would  you  think  me  very  inquisitive,"  he  went 
on,  "  if  I  asked  at  what  hotel  she  will  be  staying  in 
Vienna?" 

"  She  is  not  going  to  a  hotel,"  replied  Trafford. 
"  She  is  going  to  stay  with  my  aunt, — my  dear  Aunt 
Martha, — whose  address  I  cannot  for  a  moment  recall. 
I  shall  doubtless  hear  from  her  in  a  day  or  so,  when  I 
will  communicate  her  whereabouts  to  you — if  you  par- 
ticularly desire  it." 

"  Please  do  not  trouble,"  said  the  General,  scrutinis- 
ing his  companion  closely  through  his  eye-glass.  "  But 


116  GLORIA 

there  is  one  further  question  I  would  put  to  you.  How 
is  it  that  Saunders  does  not  even  know  that  you  have  a 
sister?  "  Meyer's  tones  were  of  the  blandest,  but  there 
was  something  in  his  look  and  bearing  that  bespoke 
suspicions  that  had  become  certainties.  Trafford  read 
danger  in  the  mocking  voice  and  smiling  lips,  and  he 
grew  wonderfully  cool. 

"  That's  dead  easy ! — she's  only  my  half-sister,"  he 
replied.  "  We  see  little  of  each  other.  Saunders 
may  well  have  never  chanced  to  meet  her  or  even  hear 
of  her.  My  half-sister,  you  know,  detests  men.  In 
fact,  my  only  fear  of  her  going  to  Vienna  is  lest  she 
should  at  once  enter  a  nunnery  and  never  be  seen 
again." 

Meyer  dropped  his  eye-glass  in  a  facial  convulsion 
of  admiration. 

"  Au  revoir,  Herr  Trafford !"  he  said,  with  a  gracious 
tow.  "  We  meet  at  eight  o'clock  at  the  Palace  to- 
night. But  I  am  desolated  at  the  idea  of  not  seeing — 
your  half-sister." 

Shortly  after  the  Commander-in-Chief's  departure, 
Trafford  donned  his  overcoat  and  sallied  forth  on  foot 
to  the  Strafeburg.  The  beauty  of  the  day  was  gone. 
The  mist  that  had  been  dispelled  by  the  noonday  sun 
Lad  settled  down  again  on  the  city.  The  penetrating 
cold,  born  of  a  low  temperature  and  a  moisture-laden 
atmosphere,  nipped  and  pinched  the  extremities,  and 
ate  its  way  behind  muscles  and  joints  till  Trafford, — 
despite  his  warm  coat, — was  glad  enough  to  reach  the 
friendly  shelter  of  the  ancient  prison-house.  A  half- 
krone  procured  him  admission  to  the  show-rooms  of  the 


THE   IRON   MAIDEN  117 

famous  building,  and  a  young  woman,  angular  of  build 
and  exceptionally  tall,  took  him  under  her  bony  wing, 
and  commenced  to  show  him  the  objects  of  interest. 
Trafford  had  come  to  see  something  less  forbidding 
than  racks  and  thumb-screws,  but  for  the  moment  the 
object  of  his  visit  being  nowhere  to  be  seen,  he  de- 
voted a  temporary  interest  to  the  quaint  and  sinister- 
looking  objects  displayed  on  all  sides  of  him.  These, 
— as  has  already  been  made  clear, — were  mainly  the 
ingenious  contrivements  of  filthy  minds  for  the  infliction 
of  the  utmost  possible  suffering  on  human  beings.  A 
judiciously-displayed  assortment  of  racks,  wheels, 
water-funnels,  and  other  abominations,  soon  had  the 
effect  of  making  Trafford  feel  physically  sick.  Nor 
was  his  horror  lessened  by  the  custodian's  monotonous 
and  unemotional  recital  of  the  various  uses  to  which  the 
different  pieces  of  mechanism  could  be  put.  And  as 
his  thoughts  travelled  back  across  the  centuries  to  the 
time  when  men  did  devil's  work  of  maiming  and  mutilat- 
ing what  was  made  in  God's  own  image,  a  fearful  fas- 
cination absorbed  the  American's  mind,  so  that  he 
quite  forgot  the  Princess  in  a  sort  of  frenzy  of  horror 
and  wrathful  mystification. 

In  the  third  room  they  visited, — a  gaunt  depart- 
ment of  deeply-recessed  windows  and  heavy  cross- 
beams,— was  an  assortment  of  especially  ferocious  con- 
trivements. 

"  This  was  used  for  those  who  made  bad  money,'* 
went  on  the  long-limbed  maiden,  in  her  droning  mono- 
tone, indicating  a  gigantic  press  which  was  capable  of 
converting  the  human  frame  into  the  semblance  of  A 


118  GLORIA 

pancake.  "  The  coiner  lay  down  here,  and  the  weights 
were  put  on  his  chest " 

"Stop!  for  heaven's  sake,"  ejaculated  Trafford, 
white  with  emotion.  "  If  I  could  get  hold  of  one  of 
those  mediaeval  torturers  I'd  give  him  a  good  Yankee 
kick  to  help  him  realise  what  pain  meant." 

"  I'm  sure  your  kick  would  be  a  most  enthusiastic 
one,"  said  a  voice  at  his  elbow.  A  lady  in  handsome 
furs  and  a  blue  veil — a  common  protection,  in  Grim- 
land,  against  snow-glare — was  addressing  him.  De- 
spite this  concealment,  however,  Trafford  did  not  need 
to  look  twice  before  recognising  the  Princess  Gloria. 

"  You  can  leave  us,  Martha,"  commanded  the  Prin- 
cess to  the  angular  attendant.  "  I  am  quite  capable 
of  describing  these  horrors  to  this  gentleman.  I  am 
sufficiently  familiar  with  the  Strafeburg,  and  shall  quite 
possibly  become  more  so."  Then,  as  the  obedient 
Martha  withdrew  her  many  inches  from  the  room : 

"  I  want  to  thank  you  for  last  night's  work,"  she 
said  to  Trafford ;  "  and  if  I  may,  to  ask " 

"  Charmed  to  have  been  of  service,"  interrupted  the 
American,  and  taking  the  Princess's  hand,  he  bent  low 
and  kissed  it.  As  he  raised  his  head  again  there  was 
a  flush  in  his  cheek  and  a  fire  in  his  eye  that  seemed 
portents  of  something  warmer  than  the  Platonism  of  a 
dead  soul.  "  But  don't  resume  the  hospitality  of  the 
Concordia,"  he  added.  "  Meyer  suspects,  and  my  lying 
capacities  have  been  well-nigh  exhausted." 

"He  has  been  cross-questioning  you?" 

"Most  pertinaciously;  but  I  lied  with  fluency  and 
fervour." 


THE    IRON   MAIDEN  119 

The  Princess  laughed  gaily. 

"  You  are  splendid ! "  she  cried,  clapping  her  hands 
with  girlish  excitement.  "  Do  you  know,"  she  went  on 
presently,  "  that  the  authorities,  acting  under  Herr 
Saunders'  advice,  are  going  to  adopt  strenuous  meas- 
ures against  us  ?  " 

"  Is  that  anything  new  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly.  But  they  have  decided  to  leave  off 
trying  to  murder  us,  and  are  going  to  try  and  take 
us  openly.  The  ex-Queen, — whose  nerves  are  not  very 
good, — has  already  crossed  the  frontier  into  Austria. 
Father  Bernhardt  has  found  several  new  hiding-places, 
and  a  brace  of  new  revolvers." 

"And  you?"  asked  Trafford. 

"  Have  found  you,"  she  answered  with  a  frank  smile. 

"  Admirable !  "  laughed  the  American.  "  But  tell 
me,  pray,  how  I  can  serve  you." 

"  You  will  be  dining  at  the  Palace  to-night.  Find 
out  all  you  can  and  report  to  me." 

Trafford  was  silent.  He  was  about  to  dine  with  the 
King,  and  he  had  certain  scruples  about  the  sacred- 
ness  of  hospitality.  Quick  as  a  flash  the  Princess  read 
his  silence,  and  bit  her  lip. 

"  Now  then,"  she  said,  as  if  to  change  the  subject, 
*'  let  me  play  the  part  of  showman.  Here  we  have  the 
famous  *  Iron  Maiden.' ' 

Trafford  beheld  a  weird  sarcophagus  set  upright 
against  the  wall,  and  rudely  shaped  like  a  human  form. 
On  the  head  were  painted  the  lineaments  of  a  woman's 
face,  and  the  mediaeval  craftsman  had  contrived  to  por- 
tray a  countenance  of  abominable  cruelty,  not  devoid 


120  GLORIA 

of  a  certain  sullen,  archaic  beauty.  A  vertical  joint 
ran  from  the  crown  of  the  head  to  the  base,  and  the 
thing  opened  in  the  middle  with  twin  doors.  The  Prin- 
cess inserted  a  heavy  key, — which  was  hanging  from  a 
convenient  nail, — and  displayed  the  interior. 

"  Now  you  see  the  charm  of  the  thing,"  she  went 
on,  as  the  inside  of  the  iron  doors  revealed  a  number  of 
ferocious  spikes.  "  The  poor  wretch  was  put  inside, 
and  the  doors  were  slowly  shut  on  him.  See,  there  is 
a  spike  for  each  eye,  one  for  each  breast,  and  several 
for  the  legs.  The  embrace  of  the  Iron  Maiden  was  not 
a  thing  to  be  lightly  undertaken." 

"  Of  all  the  fiendish,  hellish " 

"  It  was  made  by  one  Otto  the  Hunchback,"  pur- 
sued the  Princess,  "  and  it  was  so  admired  in  its  day, 
that  the  reigning  monarch  of  Bavaria  had  a  duplicate 
made,  and  it  stands  in  the  castle  of  Nuremberg  to  this 
day." 

"When  was  this  thing  last  used?"  inquired  Traf- 
ford  in  hoarse  tones. 

"  It  is  said  that  the  late  Archbishop  of  Weidenbruck 
was  killed  in  this  way,  three  years  ago,"  replied  the 
Princess  calmly. 

Trafford  was  white  with  indignation. 

"  Who  says  so?  "  he  demanded  fiercely. 

"  Everybody.  The  King  hated  him,  and  he  died  of 
cancer — officially.  I  was  told — and  I  honestly  believe 
— that  he  was  killed  by  torture,  because  when  the 
troubles  of  1904  were  at  an  end,  he  openly  incited  the 
[people  to  revolt." 

"If  that's  true,"  said  Trafford,  "I  shan't  make 


THE   IRON   MAIDEN  121 

much  bones  about  siding  with  you  against  Karl  XXII. 
[And  it  won't  worry  my  conscience  reporting  to  you 
anything  I  may  accidentally  overhear  at  the  dinner 
to-night." 

"  We  can't  fight  in  kid  gloves,"  said  the  Princess 
with  a  sigh. 

A  sudden  noise  in  the  street  without  attracted  his 
attention.  Light  as  a  bird,  the  Princess  leaped  into 
the  embrasure  of  the  window.  Trafford  followed  suit. 
A  company  of  soldiers  was  drawn  up  outside  the  build- 
ing, and  facing  them  was  a  fair-sized  mob  jeering  and 
cheering  ironically.  A  number  of  units  were  detached 
under  an  officer  to  either  side  of  the  building,  and  it 
was  plain  that  the  Strafeburg  was  being  surrounded  by 
the  military.  A  second  later  there  was  the  dull  sound 
of  hoofs  on  snow,  and  a  squadron  of  cavalry  entered 
the  platz  from  another  direction.  Lined  up  at  right 
angles  to  the  Strafeburg,  carbine  on  knee,  they  held 
the  threatening  mob  in  hand  with  the  silent  menace  of 
ball  and  gunpowder. 

Trafford  and  the  Princess  looked  at  each  other  in 
blank  and  silent  amazement. 

"  This  means  business,"  said  the  latter,  pale  but 
composed.  "  The  Guides  and  the  King's  Dragoons  are 
not  being  paraded  for  nothing.  Royalty  is  going  to 
be  arrested  with  the  pomp  and  circumstance  due  to 
the  occasion." 

"They  have  discovered  your  presence  here?" 

"  Obviously.     I  am  caught  like  a  rat  in  a  trap." 

Trafford  scanned  the  bloodless  but  firm  countenance, 
and  admired  intensely.  Here  was  no  hysterical  school- 


GLORIA 

girl  playing  at  high  treason  for  sheer  love  of  excite- 
ment, but  a  young  woman  who  was  very  much  in 
earnest,  very  much  distressed,  and  at  the  same  time 
splendidly  self-controlled.  He  stood  a  moment  think- 
ing furiously  with  knitted  brows,  hoping  that  his  racing 
thoughts  might  devise  some  scheme  for  averting  the 
impending  tragedy.  The  room  they  were  in  was  the 
last  of  a  series,  and  possessed  of  but  one  door.  To 
return  that  way  was  to  come  back  inevitably  to  the 
entrance  hall, — a  proceeding  which  would  merely  ex- 
pedite the  intentions  of  their  enemies.  He  looked  hope- 
lessly round  the  chamber,  and  he  dashed  across  to  the 
great  stone  fireplace.  It  would  have  formed  an  admi- 
rable place  of  concealment  had  not  its  smoke  aperture 
been  barred  with  a  substantial  iron  grille. 

"  It's  no  use,"  sighed  the  Princess  wearily.  "  I  must 
face  my  fate.  Perhaps  the  good  burghers  will  effect 
a  rescue." 

"  Not  if  the  King's  Dragoons  do  their  duty,"  re- 
torted Trafford  grimly.  "  Mob-heroism  is  not  much 
use  against  ball-cartridges." 

"  Then  I  must  yield  to  the  inevitable." 

Trafford  shook  his  head  fiercely. 

"That  is  just  what  you  must  not  do!"  he  cried. 
For  a  moment  he  stood  irresolute,  running  his  hand 
through  his  stiff,  up-standing  hair. 

"  I've  got  some  sort  of  an  idea,"  he  said  at  length. 

Approaching  a  table  whereon  were  displayed  a  num- 
ber of  torture  implements,  he  selected  a  pair  of  gigan- 
tic pinchers  that  had  been  specially  designed  for  tam- 
pering with  human  anatomy,  and  applied  them  vigor- 


THE    IRON   MAIDEN  123 

ously  to  the  nuts  which  fixed  the  spikes  of  the  Iron 
Maiden. 

"  Otto  the  Hunchback  little  knew  that  his  chef 
d'ceuvre  would  be  put  to  such  a  benevolent  purpose 
as  a  refuge,"  he  said,  as  he  loosened  and  withdrew  the 
spikes  one  by  one  from  their  rusty  environment. 
"  Given  ten  minutes'  respite,  and  I'll  guarantee  a 
hiding-place  no  one  in  his  senses  will  dream  of  search- 
ing." 

"  Quick,  quick,  quick ! "  cried  the  Princess  in  a  cres- 
cendo of  excitement,  transformed  again  from  a  pale, 
hunted  creature  to  a  gleeful  schoolgirl  playing  a  par- 
ticularly exciting  game  of  hide-and-seek.  "  I  hear 
them  searching  the  other  rooms.  Quick !  " 

Trafford  deposited  the  last  spike  in  the  pocket  of  his 
overcoat,  and  motioned  to  his  companion  to  enter. 
When  she  had  done  so,  he  closed  the  doors,  locked 
them,  and  put  the  key  into  his  pocket  with  the  spikes. 

"  Are  you  all  right  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Quite  comfy,  thanks,"  answered  a  muffled  voice. 

Trafford  contemplated  the  exterior  of  the  Iron 
Maiden,  and  was  pleased  to  note  air-holes  in  the 
Maiden's  ears.  It  had  not  been  the  intention  of  the 
mediaeval  tormentor  that  his  victims  should  die  of  suf- 
focation. 

A  few  moments  later  there  was  the  tread  of  martial 
steps  along  the  passage,  and  the  door  was  thrown 
open.  Trafford  buried  himself  in  the  contemplation  of 
a  water-funnel  that  had  served  to  inconvenience  human 
stomachs  with  an  intolerable  amount  of  fluid. 

"  Herr  Trafford  once  again !  " 


GLORIA 

The  gentleman  addressed  looked  up  and  beheld  the 
grey-coated  figure  of  General  Meyer.  Behind  him  with 
drawn  swords  were  two  officers  of  the  Guides. 

"  Fancy  meeting  you  again,"  went  on  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief,  putting  his  eye-glass  to  his  eye,  and 
smiling  his  most  innocent  smile. 

"  Your  presence  is  really  more  remarkable  than 
mine,"  returned  Trafford.  "  I  am  a  stranger  seeing 
the  sights  of  Weidenbruck.  You  apparently  are  here 
on  sterner  business." 

"  I  am  here  to  effect  an  important  arrest,"  drawled 
the  General.  "  But  perhaps  you  can  aid  us  in  our 
purpose,"  he  went  on  in  his  blandest  tones.  "  Have 
you  by  any  possible  chance  seen  a  young  woman  here- 
abouts ?  " 

"  I  saw  one  here  only  a  few  minutes  back." 

The  General  produced  a  note-book — the  same  in 
which  he  had  jotted  down  the  marks  of  the  skating 
competition. 

"  This  is  most  interesting,"  he  said.  "  I  need  hardly 
ask  you  to  be  precise  in  your  information,  as  your  re- 
marks will  be  taken  down  verbatim." 

"  I  will  be  accuracy  itself,"  said  Trafford  with  mock 
seriousness. 

"Good!    When  did  you  see  this  woman?" 

"  About  a  quarter  of  an  hour  ago." 

"Her  name?" 

"  I  am  ignorant  of  it." 

"Her  age?" 

"  I  am  bad  at  guessing  ladies'  ages ;  but  I  should 
say  between  twenty  and  thirty." 


THE    IRON    MAIDEN  125 

"Dark  or  fair?" 

"  Dark." 

"  I  thought  so.     Her  height — approximately  ?  " 

"  Six  foot  two." 

Meyer  stiffened  himself  indignantly,  and  the  eye- 
glass dropped  from  his  eye. 

"  You  are  trifling,  sir,"  he  said  angrily. 

"  Perhaps  I  have  exaggerated,"  said  Trafford 
calmly,  "  put  down  six  foot  one-and-a-half." 

Meyer  darted  a  sidelong  glance  at  the  American, 
and  scribbled  something  in  his  book. 

"  Remember,"  he  said,  "  that  you  may  be  called 
upon  to  substantiate  that  statement,  and  that  false 
information " 

"  He  must  be  referring  to  Martha,"  broke  in  one  of 
the  attendant  officers. 

"Martha!"  cried  Trafford  delightedly.  "Yes,  I 
believe  that  was  her  name.  In  return  for  half  a  krone 
she  told  me  more  in  five  minutes  about  instruments  of 
torture  than  my  wildest  imagination  had  conceived  pos- 
sible." 

"You  have  seen  no  one  else?  "  rapped  out  the  Gen- 
eral. 

"  Till  you  arrived  I  have  not  seen  a  soul." 

Meyer  glanced  round  the  room  carefully.  He  looked 
under  the  several  tables  whereon  the  exhibits  were  dis- 
played ;  he  put  his  head  up  the  great  stone  fireplace ; 
his  glance  swept  past  the  Iron  Maiden,  but  it  rested 
on  it  for  a  fraction  of  a  second  only. 

"  She  is  not  here,"  he  announced  decisively,  "  this 
gentleman  has  been  speaking  the  truth." 


126  GLORIA 

"  A  foolish  habit  of  mine,  but  ineradicable,"  mur- 
mured Trafford  ironically. 

Meyer  readjusted  his  eye-glass  and  turned,  smiling, 
to  the  American. 

"  You  behold  in  me,"  he  said,  "  a  disappointed  man. 
For  the  second  time  in  two  days  I  have  blundered.  It 
is  a  coincidence,  a  strange  coincidence.  Also  it  is  re- 
grettable, for  I  am  rapidly  dissipating  a  hard-earned 
reputation  for  astuteness.  Once  again,  au  revoir,  my 
dear  Herr  Trafford!  We  shall  meet  at  dinner  to- 
night, and  I  hope  often.  Gentlemen  of  the  Guides, 
vorivarts!  " 


CHAPTER    TWELVE 

THE    SIMPLE    POLICY 

THE  royal  palace  of  Weidenbruck — the  Neptunburg, 
as  it  is  called,  after  a  leaden  statue  of  the  sea  god 
which  stands  in  its  central  courtyard — is  a  Renais- 
sance structure  of  considerable  size  and  dignity.  Its 
main  fa£ade, — a  pompous,  Palladian  affair  of  super- 
imposed pilasters,  stone  vases  and  floral  swags, — fronts 
the  Konigstrasse,  a  wide  thoroughfare  joining  the 
northern  suburbs  with  the  Cathedral  Square.  Inter- 
nally, there  is  a  fine  set  of  state-rooms,  a  florid  chapel, 
and  the  famous  muschel-saal,  an  apartment  decorated 
with  shells,  coral,  pieces  of  amber,  marble,  and  por- 
phyry, and  other  semi-precious  material.  It  was  into 
this  apartment,  scintillating  with  light  and  colour,  that 
Trafford  found  himself  ushered  on  his  arrival  at  the 
royal  domain. 

General  Meyer,  resplendent  in  a  pale  blue  and  silver 
uniform  and  sundry  brilliant  orders,  received  him  and 
presented  him  to  his  wife,  a  handsome  lady  of  South- 
American  origin  and  an  ultra-Republican  love  of  finery. 
Saunders  was  there,  also  with  his  wife,  the  latter  beau- 
tiful and  stately  as  a  statue,  in  an  empire  gown  of 
creamy  green  with  red  roses  at  her  breast.  There  was 
an  old  gentleman  with  a  billowy  white  moustache,  and 
a  young  officer  of  the  Guides.  There  were  the  diplo- 
matic representatives  of  France  and  England,  and  a 

127 


128  GLORIA 

bevy  of  court  ladies  with  the  expensive  paraphernalia 
of  plumes,  egrets,  and  voluminous  trains.  The  com- 
pany was  a  decorative  one,  and  the  setting  sumptuous, 
only  needing  the  sun  of  the  royal  presence  to  gild  the 
refined  gold  of  the  exhilarating  scene. 

Saunders  took  an  early  opportunity  of  drawing 
Trafford  apart. 

"  Nervy,  my  boy,"  the  former  began,  "  the  King, 
Meyer,  and  myself  have  been  having  a  little  private 
conversation  about  you." 

"  A  most  interesting  topic,  to  be  sure." 

"  Most.  The  conclusion  we  arrived  at  was  that  you 
had  been  making  an  idiotic  ass  of  yourself." 

"  Details,  dear  flatterer?  "  demanded  Trafford. 

"  This  sister  business ! "  expostulated  Saunders. 
*'  Why,  everybody  knows  you  arrived  at  the  Hotel 
Concordia  by  yourself,  and  without  expectation  of  a 
visit  from  any  relative." 

"  Everybody  knows  it?  "  queried  Trafford  blandly. 

"  By  everybody,  I  mean  the  police,  who  study  most 
things,  and  particularly  the  visitors'  list  at  the  *  Con- 
cordia.' The  hall-porter  of  that  excellent  hotel  is  one 
of  Meyer's  most  trusted  agents,  and  there  is  not  the 
slightest  doubt  that  it  was  the  Princess  Gloria  who 
enjoyed  the  privilege  of  claiming  you  as  a  brother." 

"  A  half-brother,"  corrected  Trafford. 

"  A  half-brother,  then,"  growled  Saunders.  "  Any- 
how, it  is  established  beyond  a  doubt  that  you  have 
helped  the  Princess  by  every  means  in  your  power." 

"  Then  we  will  admit  what  is  universally  known," 
said  Trafford  coolly.  "  Only,  I  don't  agree  with  your 


THE    SIMPLE   POLICY  129 

description  of  me  as  an  idiotic  ass.  I  came  out  here 
for  excitement,  and  as  you  don't  seem  willing  to  pro- 
vide me  with  it,  I  am  finding  it  for  myself.  Besides, 
the  Princess  is  a  splendid  little  person,  and  to  cultivate 
her  society  is  the  act  not  of  an  ass,  but  of  a  philos- 
opher." 

"  That  sort  of  philosophy  leads  to  the  Strafeburg," 
retorted  Saunders.  "  Be  warned,  old  friend.  I  know 
more  about  this  charming  country  than  you  do.  You 
have  won  the  King's  Prize.  Wrap  it  in  tissue  paper 
and  take  it  by  the  midnight  express  to  Vienna.  There 
is  excellent  skating  to  be  had  there — and  you  may  come 
across  your  half-sister." 

"My  dear  humourist,"  said  Trafford,  smiling  and 
twirling  his  moustache.  "  I  have  no  further  use  for — 
half-sisters." 

Saunders  started  in  amazement,  not  at  the  words 
themselves,  but  at  their  tone,  and  the  twinkle  that  ac- 
companied them. 

"  Nervy,  Nervy  Trafford,"  he  said  solemnly.  "  Do 
you  suppose  a  Schattenberg  sets  her  cap  at  an  Amer- 
ican! If  she  wins  a  throne, — as  she  may  for  all  I 
know, — you  will  be  put  in  a  row  with  other  gallant 
dupes  of  her  witchery,  and  you  will  be  allowed  to  kiss 
her  hand  every  first  and  second  Thursdays.  Give  it 
up,  man,"  went  on  Saunders  more  heartily.  "  Give  up 
playing  poodle-dog  to  beauty  in  distress.  You  will 
get  plenty  of  scars  and  very  few  lumps  of  sugar. 
Moreover,  you  may  take  it  from  me  that  a  sterner 
policy  of  suppression  is  being  pursued.  There  are  im- 
portant arrests  impending." 


130  GLORIA 

"  Important  arrests ! "  echoed  Trafford,  laughing 
softly.  "  Why,  I  was  the  means  of  spoiling  one  this 
afternoon.  I  was  in  the  Strafeburg  with  the  Princess 
when  Meyer  turned  up  with  foot  and  horse  to  arrest 
the  poor  child.  Not  wishing  to  witness  a  pathetic 
scene,  I  unscrewed  the  spikes  of  the  Iron  Maiden,  and 
popped  Gloria  von  Schattenberg  inside  the  barbarous 
contrivance.  Needless  to  say,  no  one,  not  even  Meyer, 
thought  of  looking  in  such  an  impossible  hiding-place. 
So  you  see,  my  British  friend,  important  arrests  some- 
times fail  to  come  off." 

"  Sometimes,  but  not  invariably,"  said  a  voice  close 
by  the  American's  ear.  Trafford  shuddered  rather  than 
started,  for  he  recognised  the  acid  tones  of  General 
Meyer,  and  he  was  getting  used  to  rinding  that  gentle- 
man near  him  when  he  believed  him  far  away.  But  the 
words  depressed  him,  nevertheless,  for  they  held  a  note 
of  ruthless  certainty  that  smelled  of  damp  walls  and 
barred  windows.  He  realised  that  he  had  made  an 
enemy,  a  personal  enemy,  who  was  not  likely  to  respect 
the  liberty  of  a  young  foreigner  who  baulked  his 
choicest  schemes. 

"  I  stepped  across  the  room  to  warn  you  of  the 
King's  entrance,"  went  on  the  General  suavely.  "  His 
Majesty  is  on  the  point  of  entering  the  chamber." 

A  door  was  flung  open  by  liveried  and  powdered 
menials.  The  company  drew  itself  into  two  lines,  and 
between  them,  smiling,  portly,  debonnair,  walked  the 
big,  half-pathetic,  half-humorous  figure  of  the  King. 
He  bowed  to  right  and  left,  murmuring  conventional 
terms  of  greeting  to  all  and  sundry. 


THE    SIMPLE    POLICY  131 

To  the  American  he  said: 

"  I  congratulate  you  heartily,  Herr  Trafford,  on 
winning  my  skating  prize.  I  am  a  great  admirer  of 
the  nation  to  which  you  have  the  privilege  to  belong." 

Trafford  bowed,  and  took  the  King's  hand,  which 
was  extended  to  him. 

"  To-morrow,"  went  on  the  monarch,  "  I  am  going 
to  Weissheim,  land  of  clean  snow,  bright  suns,  and 
crisp,  invigorating  air!  Farewell,  then,  to  Weiden- 
bruck,  with  its  penetrating  chilliness,  its  vile,  rheu- 
matic fogs,  and  its  viler  and  more  deadly  intrigues! 
Then  hurrah  for  ski  and  skate  and  toboggan,  and  the 
good  granite  curling-stone  that  sings  its  way  from 
crampit  to  tee  over  the  faultless  ice!  What  say  you, 
Saunders  ?  " 

"  I  say  hurrah  for  winter  sport,  your  Majesty,  and 
a  curse  on  fogs,  meteorological  and  political ! " 

Dinner  was  a  meal  of  splendid  dulness.  Excellent 
viands,  faultless  champagne,  and  a  gorgeous  display 
of  plate  were  not  in  themselves  sufficient  to  counteract 
the  atmosphere  of  well-bred  boredom  that  sat  heavy 
on  the  company.  The  King  made  desperate  efforts  to 
sustain  his  role  of  exuberant  geniality,  but  his  wonted 
spirits  flagged  visibly  as  the  evening  wore  on,  and  it 
was  clear  that  the  events  of  the  morning  had  left  him 
depressed  and  heart-weary.  Saunders,  indeed,  chatted 
volubly  to  Meyer's  better-half,  a  lady  who  talked  pol- 
itics with  a  reckless  freedom  that  was  palliated  by  oc- 
casional flashes  of  common  sense.  Meyer  himself, — 
glass  in  eye,  tasting  each  dish  and  sipping  each  wine 
with  the  slow  gusto  of  the  connoisseur, — maintained  an 


132  GLORIA 

epigrammatic  conversation  with  Mrs.  Saunders,  whose 
ready  tongue  had  nearly  as  keen  an  edge  as  his  own. 
But  poor  Trafford, — despite  a  healthy  appetite  and  an 
appreciation  of  his  high  honour, — was  enjoying  him- 
self but  little.  The  lady  whom  he  was  privileged  to  sit 
next  to, — the  Frau  Generalin  von  Bilderbaum,  nee 
Praulein  von  Helder,  formerly  maid  of  honour  to  the 
ex-Queen, — was  a  wife  of  the  General  with  the  snowy 
moustache,  and  her  sole  topic  of  conversation  was  her 
husband.  She  was  a  lady  of  immense  proportions  and 
a  more  than  corresponding  appetite,  and  her  devotion 
to  her  spouse  would  have  been  more  romantic,  had  she 
possessed  features  as  well  as  contours.  During  the 
meal  Trafford  was  much  enlightened  as  to  the  loyal 
and  devoted  career  of  General  von  Bilderbaum  and  the 
digestive  capacities  of  an  ex-maid  of  honour. 

"  The  General  fought  with  distinction  in  the  trenches 
at  Offen  in  '84,  and  he  took  part  also  with  great  dis- 
tinction in  the  hill  fighting  round  about  Kurdeburg  in 

'86.  In  '87 "  Fortunately  for  Trafford  the  flow 

of  the  worthy  lady's  recital  was  checked.  A  menial, 
pompous,  in  plush  and  yellow  braid,  put  his  powdered 
head  between  him  and  his  persecutrix,  whispering  in 
his  ear:  "His  Majesty  will  take  wine  with  you,  sir." 

Trafford  looked  up  to  the  end  of  the  table  where  the 
King  sat.  King  Karl,  with  raised  glass  and  a  resump- 
tion of  his  genial  smile,  was  endeavouring  to  catch  his 
•eye. 

Trafford  raised  his  glass  and  flushed.  It  is  not 
given  to  every  man  to  be  toasted  by  a  reigning  sov- 
ereign, and  Trafford  felt  a  sense  of  pride  that  surged 


THE    SIMPLE    POLICY  133 

up  in  his  bosom  with  no  little  strength.  Then  the  in- 
congruity of  his  position  struck  him.  There  was  he, 
eating  the  King's  food,  and  drinking  the  King's  wine, 
and  at  the  same  time  pledged  to  help  and  abet  his  most 
relentless  enemy.  Nay,  more,  he  had  sworn  to  abuse 
his  hospitality  that  evening  by  gleaning  any  facts 
which  might  help  the  rebellious  Princess  to  continue1 
free  to  work  out  her  ambitious  and  subversive  propa- 
ganda. And  now  he  was  signalled  out  for  especial  hon- 
our, and  he  blushed,  not  because  the  eyes  of  the  ladies 
regarded  him  with  frank  admiration,  not  because  Meyer 
looked  sideways  at  him  with  sneering  inscrutability,  but 
because  his  host,  the  King,  regarded  him  with  a  glance 
that  was  all  welcome  and  good  fellowship.  And  in  the 
emotion  and  excitement  of  the  moment  Trafford  re- 
called Saunders*  favourable  opinion  of  King  Karl,. 
rather  than  the  Princess  Gloria's  sinister  suggestion  of 
the  torture-chamber.  But  just  as,  with  mixed  feelings 
and  mantled  cheek,  he  threw  back  his  head  to  empty 
his  glass,  a  noise  from  outside  attracted  his  attention. 
It  was  a  low,  humming  noise  at  first,  with  sharp  notes 
rising  from  its  depths.  But  it  grew  louder,  and  some- 
thing in  its  swelling  vibrations  checked  the  glass  un- 
tasted  in  his  hand.  Men  and  women  looked  at  each 
other,  and  the  conversation  ceased  automatically. 
Louder  the  noise  grew — louder,  till  it  was  like  the 
roaring  of  a  great  wind  or  the  snarling  of  innumerable 
wild  beasts.  And  yet,  besides  its  note  of  wrath  and 
menace,  it  held  a  sub-tone  of  deep,  insistent  purpose. 
Fair  cheeks  began  to  blanch,  and  an  air  of  pained  ex- 
pectancy hung  heavy  on  the  throng.  For  there  was 


134  GLORIA 

no  longer  any  possibility  of  mistaking  its  import.  It 
was  the  hoarse  murmur  of  a  mob,  wherein  the  mad 
fury  of  beast  and  element  were  blended  with  human 
hatred,  and  dominated  by  human  intelligence. 

Meyer  sipped  his  wine  composedly,  but  his  face  was 
a  sickly  green.  General  von  Bilderbaum  flushed  peony, 
and  Trafford  felt  big  pulses  beating  in  different  parts 
of  his  body.  The  situation  was  intolerable  in  its  frozen 
anxiety.  With  an  oath  the  King  rose  to  his  feet, 
threw  back  the  great  purple  curtains  that  masked  the 
windows,  and  flung  open  the  tall  casements.  A  re- 
doubled roar  of  voices  flowed  in  with  a  stream  of  icy 
air.  The  ladies  shuddered  in  their  decollete  gowns,  but 
Trafford, — heedless  alike  of  frost  and  etiquette, — was 
on  the  balcony  in  an  instant  by  the  King's  side,  look- 
ing down  on  the  great  street.  The  other  men  followed 
suit  immediately,  and  the  sight  that  met  their  gaze  was 
a  stirring  one.  The  broad  Konigstrasse,  which  ran 
past  the  palace,  was  packed  with  a  dense  and  swaying 
throng. 

In  the  midst  of  a  bevy  of  dark-coated  police  walked 
a  tall  figure,  handcuffed,  bareheaded,  his  clothes  torn 
as  if  he  had  been  taken  with  violence,  yet  retaining 
withal  an  air  of  fierce  scorn  and  tameless^  pride.  On 
each  side  of  the  police  tramped  companies  of  infantry 
with  fixed  bayonets.  At  the  head  and  at  the  rear  of 
the  little  procession  rode  formidable  detachments  of  the 
King's  Dragoons.  And  surging  behind,  menacing,  fu- 
rious, determined, — yet  held  in  check  by  the  cold  logic 
of  steel  and  bullet, — pressed  and  swayed  and  shouted 
a  great  mass  of  turbulent  humanity. 


THE    SIMPLE    POLICY  135 

"  They  are  arresting  Father  Bernhardt,"  drawled 
General  Meyer,  who  surveyed  the  scene  through  his 
eye-glass  and  with  a  slight  smile.  "  This  is  an  illumi- 
nating example  of  the  straightforward  policy  of  re- 
pression." 

"  At  any  rate,  he  is  being  arrested,"  said  the  King. 
"  Under  your  system  he  was  always  on  the  point  of 
being  arrested.  Once  inside  the  Strafeburg,  Father 
Bernhardt  will  not  derive  much  assistance  from  his 
noisy  friends  out  here." 

"  Once  inside  the  Strafeburg — yes  !  "  sneered  Meyer. 
"  But  there  is  still  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  be  traversed ; 
and  unless  I  mis-read  the  temper  of  the  good  Weiden- 
bruckers,  there  will  be  some  sort  of  attempt  at  a  rescue 
in  a  minute  or  two." 

"  Why  don't  they  fire  on  the  mob  ?  "  spluttered  out 
General  von  Bilderbaum,  stifling  a  fine  military  oath 
in  his  billowy  moustache. 

"  Because  I  ordered  the  Colonel  commanding  the 
Dragoons  not  to  fire  unless  a  rescue  was  actually  being 
attempted,"  answered  Meyer.  "  Revolutions  are  stupid 
things,  and  are  best  avoided  when  possible." 

"  I'd  fire  on  the  brutes  if  I  were  in  command,"  mur- 
mured the  old  General  with  suppressed  fierceness,  as 
the  crowd  pressed  close  at  the  heels  of  the  last  file  of 
Dragoons. 

Hardly  had  he  spoken  when  a  harsh  order  rang  out 
above  the  growling  of  the  mob,  the  rear  rank  swung 
their  horses  round,  and  with  a  click  of  carbines  a  vol- 
ley rang  out  into  the  icy  air.  A  bullet  struck  the 
stonework  of  the  palace,  not  far  from  the  King's  head, 


136  GLORIA 

for  the  soldiers  had  fired  purposely  in  the  air.  Karl 
never  even  winced.  His  features  wore  a  look  of  pained 
distress  that  no  personal  danger  could  accentuate. 
General  Meyer  quietly  took  cover  behind  a  friendly 
pilaster,  but  Trafford, — wildly  excited  by  the  novel 
scene, — watched  eagerly  the  quick  panic  of  the  mob. 
Helter-skelter  they  ran,  tumbling  over  each  other  in 
a  frenzied  effort  to  avoid  the  stern  reprisal  they  had 
so  ruthlessly  invited. 

"  A  whiff  of  grape  shot !  "  said  Saunders.  "  A  little 
firmness,  a  little  sternness  even,  and  a  deal  of  trouble 
is  saved.  Another  volley  in  the  air,  half  a  dozen  exe- 
cutions, and  a  few  sharp  sentences  of  imprisonment, 
and  a  desperate  situation  will  give  way  to  normal  tran- 
quillity." 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,"  sighed  the  King. 

"  I  don't,"  said  Meyer ;  and  as  he  spoke  the  crowd 
came  back  again,  surging  and  rebellious,  shouting  with 
rage  and  shame  and  furious  determination. 

"  See !  a  woman  is  leading  them  on !  "  cried  the  young 
officer  of  the  Guides. 

"  So  I  perceive,"  said  Meyer,  turning  to  Trafford, 
who  stood  next  him.  "  It  is  the  young  lady  whose 
arrest  I  strove  to  bring  about  this  afternoon  in  the 
Strafeburg.  It  would  perhaps  have  been  better  for 
her  if  my  purpose  had  been  fulfilled." 

Trafford  drew  in  his  breath  and  grasped  the  hand- 
rail of  the  iron  balcony  with  a  vise-like  grip. 

"  They  won't  fire  on  her !  "  he  said  in  a  choked  voice. 

"  I  think  so,"  said  Meyer  smoothly.  "  A  rescue  is 
certainly  being  attempted. 


THE    SIMPLE    POLICY  137 

For  a  moment  it  seemed  that  the  torrent  of  frenzied 
humanity  would  bear  down  and  engulf  the  thin  ranks 
of  soldiery;  but  once  again  the  rear  rank  swung  their 
horses  round,  once  again  there  was  a  precise  ripple  of 
small  arms,  and  once  again  there  was  the  spluttering 
crack  of  levelled  carbines. 

Trafford,  white  as  a  sheet,  trembling  with  suppressed 
emotion,  shut  his  eyes.  When  he  opened  them  the 
compact  mass  of  the  crowd  had  melted  into  scattered 
groups  fleeing  for  dear  life  in  every  direction.  Only, 
on  the  trampled  snow  of  the  Konigstrasse,  lay  a  num- 
ber of  dark  and  prostrate  objects,  some  feebly  moving, 
some  stark  still.  Trafford  turned  violently  from  the 
balcony  and  entered  the  dining-room  with  the  inten- 
tion of  making  an  instant  departure.  Wild-eyed,  heed- 
less of  good  manners,  court  conventions,  or  everything 
indeed  but  a  dominating  desire  to  break  out  into  the 
stricken  thoroughfare,  he  dashed  madly  through  the 
great  room.  In  the  doorway  a  hand,  a  cool  feminine 
hand,  checked  him,  and  he  found  himself  looking  into 
the  unemotional  grey  eyes  of  Mrs.  Robert  Saun- 
ders. 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  she  asked  firmly. 

"  Into  the  street." 

"Why?" 

"  Murder  has  been  done.  Someone  may  need  suc- 
cour." 

"  The  wounded  will  be  looked  after,*'  said  Mrs. 
Saunders  calmly,  "  and  by  more  capable  hands  than 
yours.  Your  departure  now  without  a  formal  leave- 
taking  of  his  Majesty  would  produce  the  worst  impres- 


138  GLORIA 

sion.  As  my  husband's  friend,  your  conduct  would 
reflect  on  him.  I  must  ask  you  to  be  prudent." 

Trafford's  eyes  flamed  furiously  at  the  maddening 
check.  His  whole  system  was  quivering  with  the  excite- 
ment of  the  situation  and  the  intense  desire  to  find  re- 
lief for  tortured  nerves  in  vigorous  action.  There  was 
a  strange  pain,  too,  in  his  heart,  a  queer,  stabbing  sen- 
sation that  he  neither  analysed  nor  understood.  All 
he  knew  was  that  the  Palace  walls  cramped  him  like  a 
narrow  cell,  that  he  needed  air, — the  air  of  the  Konig- 
strasse.  And  yet  nothing  short  of  rude  violence  could 
have  brushed  aside  the  well-developed  young  lady  who 
blocked  his  exit  with  such  exasperating  vis  inert  ice. 
With  a  really  fine  effort  of  self-control  he  mastered 
himself. 

"  I  will  be  prudent,"  he  said  bitterly. 

«  Thank  you." 

"  It  would  never  do,"  went  on  Trafford  ironically, 
"  for  your  husband  to  fall  out  of  favour  with  the 
humane  King  Karl.  He  might  wake  to  find  himself  in 
the  dungeons  of  the  Strafeburg;"  and  with  a  polite 
bow  he  returned  through  the  dining-room  to  the  bal- 
cony. 

"  Well,"  he  asked  of  Saunders,  "  does  peace  reign  at 
Weidenbruck  ?  " 

"  There  seems  to  be  trouble  in  the  direction  of  the 
Grass-market,"  replied  Saunders,  pointing  to  a  quarter 
from  which  distant  sounds  of  shouting  were  faintly 
audible.  Almost  as  he  spoke,  a  red  glare  lit  up  the 
heavens  with  a  rosy  flickering  glow. 


THE    SIMPLE    POLICY  139 

"  Incendiarism !  "  muttered  old  General  Bilderbaum, 
feeling  instinctively  for  his  sword. 

The  King  whispered  something  in  General  Meyer's 
ear. 

The  Commander-in-Chief  nodded. 

"  I  gave  the  order  ten  minutes  ago,  sire,"  he  replied. 
"  The  policy  of  straightforward  repression  shall  be 
given  a  full  trial." 


CHAPTER    THIRTEEN 

ON    THE    WARPATH 

WHILE  Trafford  was  devouring  the  enticing  viands  of 
the  Neptunburg,  and  listening  to  the  inspiriting  con- 
versation of  the  Frau  Generalin  von  Bilderbaum,  a  cer- 
tain captain  in  the  third  regiment  of  Guides  was  the 
prey  to  a  whole  host  of  mixed  sentiments,  divergent 
ideals,  and  other  troubles  of  a  conscientious  egotist. 
Ulrich  von  Hiigelweiler  was  sitting  |in  his  barrack 
quarters,  smoking  hard  and  thinking  harder,  and  occa- 
sionally kicking  the  legs  of  the  table  in  an  excess  of 
mental  indecision. 

"  I  am  a  loyalist  by  instinct,"  he  murmured  to  him- 
self, lighting  his  fourteenth  cigarette.  **  But  to  whom  ? 
Loyalty  is  a  virtue, — a  grand  virtue  as  a  rule, — but 
loyalty  to  the  wrong  person  is  as  immoral  as  worship 
paid  to  a  false  god."  And  having  delivered  himself  of 
this  platitudinous  monologue  he  kicked  another  flake  of 
varnish  from  the  leg  of  his  long-suffering  table. 

He  recalled  the  post  of  honour  that  had  been  as- 
signed him  that  morning  on  the  slopes  of  Nussheim, 
and  he  longed  to  prove  his  worth  by  the  solid  argu- 
ments of  a  soldier's  sword.  And  yet  .  .  .  and 
yet  ...  it  ought  to  have  been  he,  not  the  Ameri- 
can, who  was  the  honoured  guest  at  the  Neptunburg, 
that  night. 

For  the  memory  of  his  disappointment  on  the  Rund- 

140 


ON    THE    WARPATH  141 

see  rankled  intolerably  in  his  retentive  brain.  Meyer 
had  offered  him  a  dirty  task  and  had  cheated  him  of 
fame  and  glory  because  he  had  refused  to  undertake  it. 
He  hated  Meyer — hated  him  far  more  than  he  loved 
the  King.  He  hated  Trafford,  too,  for  winning  the 
King's  Prize.  He  threw  away  his  last  cigarette-end 
with  a  gesture  of  annoyance,  and  rose  impatiently  to 
his  feet.  He  would  have  liked  at  that  moment  to  have 
faced  Meyer  on  even  terms  with  measured  swords  and 
stripped  body;  and  having  pinked  the  Jew's  bosom, 
he  would  like  to  do  the  same  service  to  the  cursed 
American,  who  had  come  between  him  and  his  honour- 
able ambition.  But  Karl  had  played  no  part,  so  far  as 
he  knew,  in  the  dishonourable  intrigue  which  had  pre- 
vented him  being  placed  first  in  the  skating  competi- 
tion. Karl  was  a  man  who  had  proved  his  personal 
courage  in  the  rising  of  1904,  and  who, — despite  the 
ugly  rumours  which  flooded  the  city, — had  an  un- 
doubted charm  of  personality.  He  repented  of  having 
tendered  his  resignation,  for  the  manner  in  which  that 
resignation  had  been  deferred  touched  all  that  was 
most  soldierly  and  honourable  in  his  heart.  And  then 
into  the  troubled  whirlpool  of  his  thoughts  came  a 
vision,  so  calmly  dominating,  so  unconquerably  insist- 
ent, so  sweetly  imperious,  that  the  dictates  alike  of  hate 
and  loyalty  grew  faint  and  indecisive  before  the  splen- 
did allure  seen  of  his  inward  eye.  A  Princess  stood 
before  him,  bright  eyes  looked  pleadingly  into  his  own, 
soft  hands  caressed  the  lappet  of  his  coat.  A  breath 
sweeter  than  the  spices  of  Araby  was  in  his  nostrils. 
Conscience,  maybe,  called  one  way,  but  something 


GLORIA 

stronger  than  conscience  called  the  other.  The  call  of 
the  one  was  clear  and  loud;  but  the  call  of  the  other 
stirred  every  fibre  in  his  sensuous  being. 

He  sat  down  again  in  his  arm-chair,  and  buried  his 
face  in  his  hands,  and  because  his  eyes  were  blinded  by 
the  action,  the  vision  of  Gloria's  youthful  beauty  and 
smiling  lips  grew  clearer,  more  tangible,  more  seduc- 
tive. His  mind  harked  back  to  the  dismal  moment 
when  he  was  leaving  the  Rundsee,  a  defeated,  dis- 
credited candidate  for  the  blue  ribbon  of  the  skating 
world.  The  Princess  had  appeared  to  him  at  a  mo- 
ment when  her  bright  presence  had  seemed  especially 
dazzling  by  contrast  with  the  black  thoughts  that 
filled  his  brain.  She  had  appealed  to  him  for  assist- 
ance, had  promised,  or  at  least  hinted  at,  the  great  re- 
ward that  would  bear  him  rose-crowned  to  the  stars. 
That  was  worth  much — everything  perhaps — even  a 
soldier's  honour.  But  would  his  honour  inevitably  be 
sacrificed  by  placing  his  sword  at  the  Princess's  dis- 
posal? He  had  reasons  for  being  dissatisfied  with  his 
present  service,  he  argued.  Karl — well,  he  could  not 
bring  himself  to  dislike  Karl,  but  he  was  certainly  a 
man  of  whom  much  ill  was  spoken.  His  Commander- 
in-Chief,  Meyer,  he  knew  for  a  scheming  and  unscrupu- 
lous politician  rather  than  an  honest  soldier.  And  so, 
little  by  little,  desire  suborned  conscience,  till  he  per- 
suaded himself, — as  self-centred  men  habitually  do, — 
that  the  path  of  pleasure  was  the  path  of  duty. 

The  blare  of  a  bugle  broke  rudely  on  his  medita- 
tions. Rising  and  looking  out  of  the  window,  he  saw 
his  men  hurridly  mustering  in  the  barrack-yard.  A 


ON    THE    WAKPATH  143 

second  later  his  door  burst  open  and  his  Colonel  en- 
tered. 

"  Captain  Hiigelweiler,  proceed  instantly  with  a  full 
company  and  fifty  rounds  of  ball-cartridges  to  the 
Domkircheplatz,"  came  the  sharp  command.  "  There 
is  trouble  outside  the  Strafeburg,  and  your  orders  are 
to  restore  tranquillity  at  all  costs." 

.  .  .  .  « 

When  the  party  at  the  Neptunburg  broke  up  ab- 
ruptly, as  it  did  soon  after  the  glare  of  incendiarism 
had  flushed  the  sky  to  a  threatening  crimson,  Trafford 
paid  a  hasty  leave-taking  of  his  Majesty,  and  has- 
tened down  the  great  staircase  to  the  entrance  hall. 
Here  stood  Saunders  in  close  consultation  with  Gen- 
eral Meyer. 

"  Nervy,"  said  the  former,  "  if  I  were  you  I  should 
stay  here.  There  is  no  necessity  to  go,  and  if  you 
come  up  to  my  room  we  can  watch  things  comfortably 
from  my  window." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Trafford  curtly,  "  I  am  not  fond  of 
watching  things  from  the  window." 

"  You  really  must  not  leave  us,"  said  the  Comman- 
der-in-Chief,  with  exaggerated  politeness. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  must,  though,"  said  the  American  de- 
cisively, buttoning  up  his  coat  and  putting  on  his  snow 
boots  over  his  evening  shoes. 

"  We  really  cannot  allow  you  to  depart,"  persisted 
Meyer,  walking  to  the  hall-door  and  ostentatiously 
shooting  a  massive  bolt. 

A  gleam  lighted  in  Trafford's  eye,  but  his  response 
was  politeness  itself. 


144  GLORIA 

"  I  must  insist  on  tearing  myself  away,"  he  retorted. 

Saunders  and  Meyer  exchanged  glances. 

"  Herr  Trafford,"  said  the  latter,  "  when  I  said  you 
must  not  go,  I  meant  to  couch  a  command  in  terms  of 
courtesy.  The  streets  of  Weidenbruck  are  in  a  dan- 
gerous state  to-night,  and  as  the  person  responsible  for 
the  public  safety  I  really  cannot  sanction  your  de- 
parture from  the  Neptunburg." 

Trafford  glanced  round  him.  On  either  side  were 
flunkeys  in  powdered  wigs,  knee  breeches,  and  yellow 
coats.  Between  him  and  the  street  he  desired  to  gain 
was — an  elderly  Jew. 

"  Is  your  command  based  solely  on  a  concern  for  my 
personal  safety?  "  he  asked. 

"  Solely,"  was  Meyer's  sarcastic  reply. 

"  Then  I  shall  disregard  it,"  said  Trafford,  pro- 
ducing his  gun  and  flourishing  it  about  in  reckless 
fashion,  "  for  I  am  quite  capable  of  protecting  my- 
self, dear  General,  I  assure  you." 

Meyer  flinched  violently  as  the  muzzle  of  the  deadly 
weapon  was  pointed  in  all  directions,  and  most  fre- 
quently at  his  own  person.  For  a  half -moment  he  hesi- 
tated ;  he  had  been  playing  a  game  of  bluff,  but  he  had 
not  appreciated  the  bluffing  capabilities  of  his  oppo- 
nent. He  might  call  the  guard,  but  he  had  a  nerve- 
destroying  idea  that  if  he  did  so  the  mad  American 
would  have  an  accident  with  the  revolver  and  shoot  him 
through  the  leg.  His  half-moment's  hesitation  was 
fatal  to  his  scheme  for  retaining  Trafford  in  the  Nep- 
tunburg. The  latter  brushed  past  him,  threw  back  the 


ON    THE    WARPATH  145 

bolt,  and  with  a  "  Good-night,  Saunders,  Good-night, 
General,"  vanished  into  the  street. 

Having  gained  the  open,  Trafford's  first  steps  were 
directed  hastily  to  the  scene  of  the  late  contest  be- 
tween the  mob  and  the  soldiers.  The  roadway  was 
strangely  empty, — as  though  some  dominant  attrac- 
tion had  lured  away  all  such  as  could  walk  or  run, — 
leaving  only  those  whom  the  recent  fracas  had  robbed 
of  their  limbs'  use.  It  was  these  latter  to  whom  Traf- 
ford  paid  instant  and  anxious  attention.  One  by  one 
he  bent  over  the  prostrate  forms  with  peering  eyes  and 
a  nameless  dread  in  his  heart.  There  were  about  a 
dozen,  some  dead,  some  dying,  some  merely  incapaci- 
tated. 

At  the  conclusion  of  his  search  Trafford  heaved  a 
deep  sigh  of  relief,  for  they  were  all  men,  and  what  he 
had  feared  had  not  happened.  Then,  just  as  he  was 
wondering  what  he  could  do  to  alleviate  the  sufferings 
of  the  stricken  ones,  he  saw  a  party  of  friars,  black- 
cloaked  and  hooded,  approaching  the  scene  with  chari- 
table intent.  And  so,  leaving  the  task  of  mercy  to  bet- 
ter hands  than  his,  he  hastened  in  the  direction  from 
which  distant  sounds  of  shouting  were  audible.  His 
ears  led  him  towards  the  Cathedral  Square,  and  as  the 
noise  of  turbulence  swelled  louder  and  fiercer,  and  as 
his  own  sense  of  relief  at  the  Princess's  escape  from 
danger  made  itself  felt  more  consciously,  a  strange 
exaltation  of  the  spirit  took  him.  His  heart  sang  at 
the  joyous  prospect  of  a  disturbance  beside  which  the 
finest  college  row  on  record  would  seem  a  small  and 


146  GLORIA 

trivial  thing1.  He  quickened  his  footsteps  to  a  run,  for 
his  nerves  were  taut  and  tingling  with  the  shrill  joy  of 
anarchy.  Houses  would  be  burnt  instead  of  furniture, 
policemen  would  be  assaulted  with  genuine  ferocity, 
instead  of  the  half -humorous  roughness  of  his  under- 
graduate days.  The  war-drum  was  sounding  in  his 
ears.  The  strange  brain,  that  could  pity  human  suf- 
fering with  a  superhuman  sympathy,  was  kindled  with 
the  wild  flames  of  primitive  pugnacity.  The  strange 
heart,  that  could  conceive  an  ethereal,  passionless  re- 
gard for  a  woman,  was  a  fierce  swirl  of  troubled  waters. 
Trafford,  Nervy  Trafford,  the  fire-brand  of  Caius, 
was  on  the  warpath. 


CHAPTER    FOURTEEN 

MUSIC    AND    THE    MOB 

WHEN  Trafford  reached  the  Cathedral  Square  he 
found  a  vast  number  of  people,  a  considerable  amount 
of  noise,  but  nothing  very  stirring  in  the  way  of  action. 
The  military  and  the  mob  seemed  to  be  watching  one 
another  in  an  equipoise  of  mutual  distrust.  The  King's 
Dragoons, — who  had  escorted  Father  Bernhardt  to  the 
Strafeburg, — were  patrolling  a  space  before  the  prison- 
house,  while  the  portal  itself  was  held  by  a  company 
of  Guides  under  Captain  von  Hiigelweiler.  On  one 
side,  indeed,  a  body  of  energetic  firemen  were  engaged 
in  pumping  exceedingly  cold  water  on  to  an  ignited 
building,  but  though  the  crowd  jeered  and  shouted,  the 
brass-helmets  proceeded  in  their  duty,  unheeding  and 
unmolested.  An  air  of  palpable  dejection  seemed  to 
oppress  the  throng,  as  though  they  had  tried  conclu- 
sions with  the  military  and  come  off  second  best.  The 
situation  pleased  the  American  not  at  all.  His  own 
enthusiasm  was  at  boiling-point,  and  it  fretted  his  high 
spirit  to  see  a  promising  revolution  fizzling  out  for  want 
of  leaders  and  concerted  action.  He  edged  his  way 
into  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd,  in  the  dim  hope  of 
meeting  some  kindred  spirit,  perhaps,  even  if  fortune 
favoured  him,  of  chancing  across  the  Princess. 

"  Oh,  for  five  minutes  of  Father  Bernhardt ! "  mur- 
mured a  mild-looking  individual  in  spectacles,  broad- 

147 


148  GLORIA 

cloth,  and  a  high  felt  hat.  Trafford  turned  and  re- 
garded the  gentleman  who  had  voiced  that  spirited  as- 
piration in  such  a  tone  of  quiet  pathos.  He  was  a  very 
large  person,  eminently  respectable  in  appearance, 
and  he  was  seated  on  a  wooden  stall  intended  for  the 
display  of  merchandise. 

"What  would  Father  Bernhardt  do?"  asked  Traf- 
ford. 

"Do!"  echoed  the  other.  "Why  he'd  turn  these 
dull  logs  of  people  into  blazing  firebrands  in  five  min- 
utes." The  tone  was  one  of  regret  and  disappoint- 
ment, slightly  bitter  and  distinctly  reproachful. 

"  Indeed ! "  said  Trafford,  scenting  a  character,  and 
drawing  him  out. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other  in  rising  tones,  "  with  a  few 
of  his  red-hot  sentences  fresh  from  heaven  or  hell,  or 
wherever  it  is  he  draws  his  inspirations,  he'd  light  a 
flame  that  would  roast  Karl  and  all  his  pack  of  venial 
favourites  and  hungry  courtesans." 

Trafford  smiled  appreciatively.  There  were  symp- 
toms of  a  battle-light  in  those  big,  grey  eyes,  a  certain 
rude  force  and  stubborn  vigour  on  those  heavy,  bo- 
vine features. 

"  Father  Bernhardt's  in  the  Strafeburg,"  said  the 
American. 

"  Alas,  yes,"  admitted  the  stranger  in  a  voice  of  in- 
finite sadness.  "  He  alone  held  the  threads  of  revolu- 
tion in  his  hands.  He  alone  possessed  the  magic  of 
command,  the  subtle  influence  that  turns  canaille  into 
heroes.  Without  him  we  are  an  army  of  sheep  without 
a  leader." 


MUSIC   AND    THE    MOB  149 

"Why  not  attempt  a  rescue?"  suggested  Trafford. 

The  other  made  a  gesture  of  contempt. 

"  Look  at  us,"  he  said,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand. 
"  Do  we  look  the  sort  of  people  to  pull  down  six-foot 
walls  in  the  face  of  rifle  bullets  ?  We've  been  peppered 
once  to-night,  and  we  didn't  like  it.  Then  the  firemen 
turned  their  hoses  on  us,  and  the  cold  water  was  worse 
than  the  hot  fire.  Look  at  mj  hat !  " 

Trafford  regarded  the  high  felt  head-covering,  and 
could  not  restrain  a  smile.  Its  crown  was  shiny  and 
cockled,  and  its  brim  limp  and  dripping. 

"  I'm  wet  through,"  went  on  the  stranger  patheti- 
cally, "  and  I'm  going  home.  I'm  a  doctor,  and  if 
there's  not  going  to  be  a  revolution,  I'm  not  going  to 
undermine  my  constitution  watching  these  cowards  do 
nothing." 

"  Nonsense !  "  said  Trafford  cheerily,  "  Something 
must  and  will  be  done.  Why,  my  good  man,  I've  come 
all  the  way  from  New  York  to  see  a  revolution,  and  do 
you  suppose  I'm  going  back  without  seeing  one  ?  " 

"  You'd  better  make  a  speech,"  suggested  the 
stranger  sarcastically. 

"  That's  not  a  bad  idea,"  said  Trafford,  rubbing 
his  chin  thoughtfully,  "but  I  think  I've  got  a  better 
one." 

The  stranger  turned  his  glance  on  the  American,  a 
spark  of  interest  in  his  gloomy  eye. 

"  I  heard  a  song  the  other  night  at  the  Eden 
Theatre,"  went  on  Trafford.  "  I  think  it  was  called 
the  *  Rothlied.'  Its  effect  on  the  audience  was  remark- 
able. Old  men  became  boys,  women  went  fighting  mad, 


150  GLORIA 

and  officers  in  uniforms  swore  death  to  all.  If  we  could 
get  the  *  Rothlied '  going  we'd  have  Father  Bernhardt 
out  of  the  Strafeburg  in  half  an  hour." 

"  Young  man,"  said  the  stranger  solemnly,  "  I'm 
not  sure  you're  not  a  genius." 

"  Neither  am  I,"  said  Traff ord  modestly.  "  Look 
here — can  you  sing?  " 

"  I  have  a  powerful  baritone — and  you  ?  " 

"  Have  the  voice  of  a  crow,"  said  Trafford.  "  Also 
I  don't  know  the  words,  and  I'm  not  very  sure  of  the 
tune." 

The  other  repeated  a  few  lines  in  Trafford's  ear  and 
hummed  a  few  bars  of  the  melody. 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  Trafford.  "  Now  then,  as 
loud  as  you  can.  One — two — three 

"  Tremble  tyrants,  base  and  callous, 
Tremble  at  the  people's  cry, 
See  the  flaming  star  of  freedom 
Rise  blood-red  in  the  sky." 

In  a  trice  the  song  was  taken  up  by  those  nearest  the 
two  agitators,  and  in  an  incredibly  short  time  the  whole 
square  was  resounding  with  the  swinging  chorus  of  the 
inflammatory  melody.  The  thing  succeeded  beyond  all 
expectation.  A  new  temper  seemed  to  come  over  the 
entire  throng.  Wet  clothes  were  forgotten  in  an  access 
of  revolutionary  ardour.  Men  who  had  seen  red 
wounds  and  staring  death  forgot  the  chill  remembrance 
in  the  burning  music  of  the  "  Rothlied."  Louder  and 
louder  it  swelled,  fiercer  grew  the  gesticulations  of  the 
fermenting  mob.  The  whole  mass  swayed  and  surged 
with  the  leaven  of  revived  fanaticism. 


MUSIC   AND    THE    MOB  151 

« "We've  got  something  to  work  on  now,"  said  Traf- 
ford  gleefully.  "  Give  me  a  pick-a-back,  Herr  Doctor, 
and  I'll  make  a  speech." 

The  doctor  bent  his  massive  back,  and  Trafford 
climbed  up  on  to  the  broad  shoulders. 

"  Into  the  thick  of  them,  good  doctor  horse ! "  he 
cried,  and  the  doctor  struggled  on  manfully  under  his 
burden, — albeit  he  lost  his  high  felt  hat  in  the  press, 
and  the  cold  wind  chilled  the  perspiration  on  his  be- 
nevolent brow.  And  Trafford  addressed  the  populace 
with  fervid  words  and  execrable  grammar,  and  for 
some  inexplicable  reason  his  assurance  and  manifest 
energy  won  him  a  ready  hearing  and  savage  applause. 

"  Form  barricades ! "  he  shouted  at  the  conclusion 
of  his  wild  address. 

"  Why  ?  "  whispered  the  doctor. 

"  Don't  you  know  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a 
revolution  without  barricades,"  replied  the  American, 
"  they  are  a  necessary  part  of  the  game.  Form  bar- 
ricades, my  brothers ! "  he  repeated  in  louder  tones. 

"  With  what?  "  demanded  one. 

"With  snow,  son  of  a  crossing-sweeper!"  replied 
Trafford.  "  Work  hard,  brothers,  and  form  a  rampart 
breast  high,  and  hold  it  against  all  comers." 

The  tone  of  command  and  his  imposing  position  on 
the  big  doctor's  shoulders,  won  their  way.  The  doc- 
tor, too,  was  recognised  as  a  prominent  burgher  of 
"  advanced "  tendencies,  and  the  crowd  set  to  work 
with  the  utmost  energy  and  determination. 

"  What  on  earth  are  you  doing  ? "  asked  a  soft 
voice  by  his  side. 


152  GLORIA 

Looking  down  he  perceived  the  Princess  Gloria. 
The  girl  was  evidently  under  the  stress  of  great  excite- 
ment ;  her  eyes  were  unnaturally  bright  and  her  bosom 
was  heaving  tumultuously  under  her  coat  of  sables. 
But  when  her  eyes  met  Trafford's  she  laughed ;  it  would 
not  have  been  the  Princess  Gloria  had  she  not  done  so. 

"  What  on  earth  are  you  doing  on  Doctor  Matti's 
shoulders  ?  "  she  repeated. 

"  Telling  the  people  to  make  snow-men  for  the 
Dragoons  to  charge  against,"  he  replied. 

"  But  that  won't  stop  them,"  she  objected. 

"  Of  course  it  won't,"  he  agreed,  "  but  it  keeps  these 
fellows  warm  and  busy.  The  essence  of  a  revolution 
is  to  keep  things  moving.  Inaction  is  the  foe  to  insur- 
rection." 

"  You  talk  like  a  paid  agitator,"  she  said,  still 
smiling. 

"I  am.  The  highest-paid  agitator  that  ever  was. 
Have  you  forgotten  the  agreed  price  ?  " 

"  It  will  never  be  earned,"  said  the  Princess  in  a  low 
voice.  "  Our  plans  are  ruined.  Father  Bernhardt  has 
been  taken,  and  without  him  our  organisation  crumbles 
to  pieces." 

"  Nil  desperandum  Tencro  duce  et  auspice  Tencro," 
quoted  Trafford  softly.  "Substitute  Trafford  for 
Tencro,  and  hope  is  unvanquished." 

"  You  are  going  to  lead  us  ?  "  asked  the  Princess, 
with  a  note  of  expectant  confidence  that  ministered 
strangely  to  Trafford's  pride. 

"  Certainly,"  he  replied,  "  but  we  want  a  little  more 
enthusiasm." 


MUSIC   AND    THE    MOB  153 

"  But  the  people  are  frantic,"  objected  the  doctor. 

"  I  was  referring  to  the  soldiers,"  explained  Traf- 
ford  drily.  "  They  lack  enthusiasm  for  the  popular 
cause." 

"  They  are  our  enemies,"  said  the  Princess  bitterly  ; 
"  they  have  fired  on  us  several  times  to-night." 

"  They  are  Grimlanders,"  retorted  Trafford,  "  and 
they  only  want  a  slight  excuse  to  forget  discipline, 
and  remember  their  national  characteristics." 

"  I  think  we  shall  do  well  to  trust  the  gentleman  on 
my  shoulders,"  advised  Doctor  Matti.  "  It  was  he 
who  set  the  *  Rothlied  '  going,  and  put  fresh  courage 
into  the  hearts  of  the  people.  I  believe  he  possesses  a. 
most  magnetic  personality." 

"  So  do  I,"  agreed  the  Princess  heartily.  "  Ten 
minutes  ago  all  was  despondency  and  depression. 
From  the  time  the  prison  doors  were  shut  on  Father 
Bernhardt  all  energy  and  enthusiasm  seemed  to  die. 
No  one  appeared  to  know  me.  I  could  not  make  myself 
heard.  I  was  lost  in  a  mob  of  my  own  partisans.  Now 
the  whole  throng  is  in  motion.  Pressure  is  put  on  the 
soldiers  at  every  point.  If  this  gentleman  were  to  lead 
a  charge  all  might  be  won." 

Trafford  laughed  recklessly.  The  situation  was 
mending  with  extraordinary  rapidity.  There  was  talk 
now  of  charges,  instead  of  returning  home,  and  the 
touching  confidence  of  the  Princess  in  his  generalship 
put  the  coping  stone  on  his  exhilaration. 

"  Will  you  do  exactly  what  I  tell  you?  "  he  asked  of 
the  Princess. 

"  Absolutely,"  was  the  sweet  reply. 


154-  GLORIA 

"  If  the  people  don't  recognise  you  as  the  Princess," 
he  went  on,  "  they  must  recognise  you  as  the  Schone 
Fraulein  Schmitt,  of  the  Eden  Theatre.  From  my 
point  of  vantage  on  this  good  gentleman's  shoulders 
I  see  a  sleigh  not  far  from  us,  with  a  couple  of  horses, 
blocked  in  the  crowd.  Let  us  annex  it  in  the  name  of 
beautiful  Miss  Smith." 

At  Trafford's  command  the  doctor  bore  him  through 
the  surging,  singing  press  towards  the  sleigh,  the  Prin- 
cess following  closely  in  their  wake.  It  was  a  public 
vehicle  of  the  cab  type,  and  the  driver  stood  at  the 
horse's  head,  wondering  resignedly  when  it  would  be 
possible  to  get  out  of  his  present  impasse. 

"  Hi !  coachman,"  sung  out  Traff ord ;  "  are  you  en- 
gaged ?  " 

"  Engaged !  Excellency.  I've  been  here  three  hours 
in  the  midst  of  these  excited  gentlemen,  and  I  daren't 
move,  for  the  temper  of  the  people  is  none  too  pleasant 
to  risk  an  accident." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Trafford.  "I'll  charter 
your  cab  for  the  evening.  Here's  a  twenty  krone 
piece."  So  saying,  Trafford  leaped  on  the  box-seat 
and  bade  Doctor  Matti  and  the  Princess  enter  the 
vehicle.  With  a  crack  of  the  whip,  and  a  cry  of  "  Make 
way  there  for  the  beautiful  Fraulein  Schmitt!  Way 
for  the  singer  of  the  '  Rothlied ! '  "  he  forced  a  slow  and 
dangerous  progress  through  the  close-packed  multitude. 
His  objective  was  the  neck  of  the  Konigstrasse,  and 
somehow  he  arrived  there  without  injuring  life  or  limb. 
Between  the  cordon  of  infantry  and  the  mob  was  an 
open  space,  up  and  down  which  a  number  of  officers 


MUSIC   AND    THE    MOB  155 

walked  with  drawn  swords  and  a  palpable  air  of  nerv- 
ousness. The  crowd  was  still  singing  the  incendiary 
song,  and  the  rank  and  file  of  the  soldiers  looked  ob- 
viously bored  with  their  duties,  and  longing  to  join  in 
the  chorus.  Trafford  drew  up  on  the  verge  of  the  open 
space. 

"  Silence,  my  friends ! "  he  called  out  to  the  crowd, 
rising  to  his  feet  on  the  box.  "  Silence  for  the  Schone 
Frdulein  Schmitt,  of  the  Eden  Theatre ! " 

The  Princess  rose  at  his  gesture  of  command.  Her 
face  was  pale,  and  her  twitching  hands  betokened  in- 
tense nervousness,  but  there  was  a  twinkle  in  her  eye 
that  showed  that  she  added  humour  to  the  proverbial 
courage  of  her  race.  And  in  the  intense  silence  of  ap- 
preciation her  sweet  young  soprano  rang  out  free  and 
fresh  into  the  cold  night  air.  Confidence  came  to  her 
with  each  additional  line  of  the  song.  The  occasion, — 
which  had  begun  by  almost  overwhelming  her, — served 
now  but  to  stimulate  her  highest  powers.  She  put  fire 
into  her  melody ;  she  added  gestures  appropriate  and 
warlike;  she  became  not  merely  a  singer,  but  Bellona 
herself,  young  and  beautiful  and  ardent. 

"  Hurrah  for  the  beautiful  Fraulein !  Hurrah  for 
freedom  I  "  shouted  the  crowd. 

"  The  chorus,  now ! "  yelled  Trafford,  with  a  special 
appeal  to  the  soldiers ;  and,  as  he  had  anticipated,  the 
chorus  was  sung,  not  by  the  mob  alone,  but  by  the 
triple  line  of  infantry  holding  the  neck  of  the  Konig- 
strasse.  Harsh  commands  were  given  by  frantic  offi- 
cers, but  to  no  avail.  The  music  had  got  into  the 
men's  blood,  and  curses  and  entreaties,  blows  even, 


156  GLORIA 

failed    signally    to    check    the    tide    of    revolutionary 
song. 

"  Well  sung,  brothers ! "  cried  out  Trafford  as  the 
song  died  down.  "  Three  cheers  for  the  beautiful 
Fraulein  Schmitt!" 

Three  cheers  were  given  by  all,  and  with  especial 
heartiness  by  the  soldiers. 

"  Now,  listen  to  what  I'm  going  to  say,"  went  on 
Trafford  in  stentorian  tones.  "  The  lady  who  just 
sang  that  song  isn't  the  beautiful  Fraulein  Schmitt, 
for  there  is  no  such  person.  The  beautiful  Fraulein 
Schmitt  is  the  most  noble  and  high-born  Princess 
Gloria  von  Schattenberg,  whom  you  are  going  to  set 
on  the  throne  of  Grimland.  Behold  your  Queen  who  is 
to  be!" 

At  these  words  a  mighty  shout  rent  the  air.  No  one 
seemed  to  doubt  the  truth  of  the  startling  denouement; 
the  crowd  was  drunk  with  its  own  singing,  drunk  with 
the  lust  of  anarchy,  its  reasoning  faculties  dulled  in  a 
wild  orgy  of  rebellion.  The  form  and  features  of  the 
Princess  Gloria  were  practically  unknown  in  Weiden- 
bruck,  but  all  the  Grimlander's  innate  love  of  change 
had  grouped  itself  beneath  the  aegis  of  her  name.  For 
years  she  had  been  the  official  figure-head  of  the  revolu- 
tionary party.  Wild  legends  and  poetic  fantasies  had 
been  woven  round  her  little-known  existence.  And  now 
the  present  dramatic  disclosure  of  her  personality, — 
identified  as  it  was  with  that  of  the  popular  Fraulein 
Schmitt,  the  singer  of  the  all-pervading  "  Rothlied," 
— kindled  an  enthusiasm  no  bonds  could  restrain. 

"  Long   live   the   noble    and   high-born   Princess ! " 


MUSIC   AND    THE    MOB  157 

shouted  Trafford,  but  his  voice  was  drowned  in  the  wild 
confusion  of  cries  that  shook  the  air  like  thunder.  The 
soldiers  broke  their  ranks  and  mingled  with  the  crowd ; 
several  of  the  officers  joined  the  swelling  stream  of  in- 
surrection ;  a  few, — neither  wholly  false  nor  wholly 
brave, — slunk  off  down  the  Konigstrasse,  pursued  by 
the  jeers  of  their  late  subordinates. 

Trafford,  with  the  instincts  of  a  true  leader,  struck 
hard  while  the  iron  glowed. 

"  To  the  Strafeburg!  "  he  cried. 

"  To  the  Strafeburg ! "  shouted  a  hundred  respon- 
sive voices. 

Trafford  cracked  his  whip,  and  set  his  horse  in  mo- 
tion towards  the  prison  house. 

"  To  the  Strafeburg !  Make  way  there !  way  for  the 
Queen !  "  he  cried.  And  in  a  seething  unison  of  strug- 
gling limbs  and  straining  throats,  the  vast  crowd  of 
men  and  women,  soldiers  and  civilians,  pressed  irresist- 
ibly towards  the  doomed  prison  house. 


CHAPTER    FIFTEEN 

THE    TEMPTATION    OF    ULKICH 

VON  HUGELWEILER, — standing  with  his  paltry  hun- 
dred men  facing  the  wild  throng, — wondered  what  this 
new  press  and  surge  of  human  billows  might  portend. 
So  far  he  had  done  his  duty  loyally  and  well :  hour  after 
hour  he  had  stood  at  his  post  watching  the  varying 
temper  of  the  people,  as  it  seethed  and  cooled  and  then 
rose  suddenly  again  to  more  than  boiling  heat.  Nor 
did  this  fresh  mood  of  aggression  affright  him  with  its 
terrifying  unanimity  and  savage  outburst  of  song.  He 
was  essentially  a  man  of  temperament.  Egotist,  in 
the  sense  that  he  valued  his  own  happiness  and  well- 
being  above  all  things,  he  was  no  coward.  Egotists, 
in  fact,  seldom  are,  for  their  swollen  self-esteem  cannot 
lightly  suffer  so  humiliating  a  burden  as  a  suspicion 
of  timidity.  Moreover,  he  was  young  and  virile,  a  scion 
of  a  warlike  family,  and  the  vibrant  roar  of  a  thousand 
voices  served  but  to  string  his  nerves  to  the  heroic 
pitch.  Had  he  foreseen  the  post  that  was  to  be  as- 
signed him  that  evening  his  dark  cheek  might  have 
blanched  at  the  prospect,  and  his  spirit  sickened  be- 
fore the  appalling  ferocity  of  the  hungering  mob. 
But  the  actual  situation, — serious  beyond  all  expecta- 
tion,— found  him  not  merely  calm  and  determined,  but 
actually  desirous  of  bringing  matters  to  the  touch. 
Perhaps  the  "  Rothlied's  "  wild  measure  had  mounted 

158 


THE    TEMPTATION  OF  ULRICH        159 

his  brain  and  made  him  drunk  with  its  pulsing  beat, 
for  he  almost  wished  that  these  wild  men  and  women 
who  surged  towards  him  so  threateningly  were  his  com- 
rades in  some  task  of  note  or  honour.  Yet,  if  they 
were  his  foes,  he  prayed  that  they  would  attack  at  once 
and  give  swift  scope  to  his  itching  sword-arm.  So, 
blade  in  hand,  with  bright  eye  and  scornful  lip, — no 
mean  figure  of  a  soldier  in  his  grey-blue  surcoat, — he 
stood  at  the  head  of  his  company  before  the  portals 
of  the  Strafeburg. 

But  his  astonishment  was  great  when,  with  a  sway- 
ing of  the  mob  and  a  louder  note  of  acclaim,  the  sleigh 
driven  by  Trafford  emerged  into  the  open  space  held 
by  the  patrolling  Dragoons.  He  failed  for  the  mo- 
ment to  recognise  in  the  driver  his  late  rival  of  the 
Rundsee,  but  his  eye  quickly  detected  the  fur-enveloped 
figure  of  the  Princess  on  the  back  seat.  For  a  mo- 
ment his  heart  stood  still,  for  the  Dragoons  were  gal- 
loping up  from  the  right-hand  corner  of  the  building, 
and  he  feared  that  in  the  shock  of  the  encounter  vio- 
lence or  mischance  might  lay  low  the  fair  creature  whom 
he  loved  more  than  his  honour  or  his  King.  But  the 
temper  of  the  people  was  not  to  let  their  new-found 
heroine  be  seized  or  trampled  on  before  their  eyes,  and 
a  section  of  the  mob,  stiffened  by  the  mutinied  soldiers, 
thrust  a  stout  wedge  between  the  Princess  and  the  on- 
coming cavalry. 

Trafford  rose  to  his  feet  on  the  summit  of  the  box. 
Quicker  of  perception  than  Von  Hiigelweiler,  he  recog- 
nised the  latter  in  an  instant. 

"  Good-evening,    Herr    Captain ! "    he    called    out 


160  GLORIA 

genially ;  "  kindly  open  the  door  of  the  Straf eburg, — 
jour  Queen  desires  it." 

Von  Hiigelweiler's  eyes  wore  a  daze  of  wonderment. 
What  on  earth  was  the  American  doing  on  the  box  of 
the  Princess's  sleigh? 

"  Give  your  men  the  order  to  let  us  pass,"  went  on 
Trafford  with  masterful  good  humour ;  "  I  want  to 
avoid  bloodshed!  The  people  mean  entering  the 
Straf  eburg ;  they  mean  rescuing  Father  Bernhardt !  " 

Von  Hiigelweiler  laughed  scornfully,  a  rising  anger 
in  his  heart.  How  dared  this  mad  foreigner  address 
him  in  such  tones  of  easy  condescension,  as  if  he  were 
a  dog  to  be  coaxed  aside  from  a  door!  What  was  he 
doing  championing  the  Princess — his  Princess? 

"  You  are  a  very  confident  fellow,  Herr  Trafford ! " 
lie  called  back ;  "  but  if  you  mean  forcing  this  door- 
way you  must  do  it  by  your  own  valour.  You  have  no 
favourable  umpire  here,  as  on  the  Rundsee." 

The  allusion  passed  Trafford  by.  Nor  did  he  per- 
ceive that  he  was  face  to  face  with  an  angry  and  ex- 
cited man. 

"  Don't  waste  time,  Captain !  "  he  cried.  "  You  see 
these  soldiers  here  fraternising  with  the  crowd?  Ten 
minutes  ago  they  were  holding  the  Konigstrasse  for 
TCarl.  Do  you  see  those  Dragoons  over  there?  Are 
they  forcing  a  bloody  way  through  the  throng  to  effect 
our  capture  ?  No ;  the  troopers  are  laughing  with  the 
crowd ;  some  of  them  are  singing  the  *  Rothlied  ' ;  even 
the  officers  are  resigning  themselves  to  the  inevitable, 
and  cheering  for  the  Princess." 

This  was  anything  but  a  true  description  of  the  real 


THE    TEMPTATION  OF  ULRICH         161 

state  of  affairs,  as  Trafford  could  see  from  his  exalted 
position  on  the  box.  To  Von  Hiigelweiler,  however, — 
who  could  see  nothing  but  a  confused  mass, — it 
sounded  probable  enough.  In  reality,  a  pretty  stern 
struggle  was  going  on,  the  officer  commanding  the 
Dragoons  desiring  above  all  things  to  annex  the  per- 
son of  the  Princess,  while  at  the  same  time  unwilling 
to  embitter  the  fury  of  the  people  by  further  slaughter. 
No  firearms  were  used,  but  the  troopers  were  employ- 
ing the  flats  of  their  swords  to  considerable  purpose, 
and  despite  the  courage  of  the  people  and  the  support 
of  the  mutineers,  the  protecting  wedge  between  the 
Princess  and  the  cavalry  was  being  appreciably  di- 
minished. Trafford  saw  that  success  must  come 
quickly  or  not  at  all. 

"  Let  us  pass,  Captain,"  he  went  on.  "  There's  been 
enough  bloodshed  to-night.  I  don't  want  to  hurt  a 
good  sportsman  like  yourself." 

But  Captain  Von  Hiigelweiler  was  in  no  mood  to 
yield  to  an  implied  threat. 

"  To  the  devil  with  your  kindness ! "  he  cried  wildly, 
brandishing  his  sword  with  a  defiant  gesture.  "  Drop 
words  and  come  to  hand-grips,  scTiweinhund  of  an 
American ! " 

These  words  would  doubtless  have  had  their  effect 
on  the  excitable  Trafford  had  not  the  Princess  grasped 
the  vital  danger  of  the  moment.  In  a  twinkling  she 
.had  risen  to  her  feet  and  thrown  out  her  arms  ap- 
pealingly. 

"  Ulrich,"  she  implored,  "  I  want  your  help.  The 
•whole  city  is  on  my  side;  will  you  alone  stand  between 


162  GLORIA 

me  and  my  ambition?  Help  me  now,  and  I  can  give 
you  rewards  beside  which  the  King's  Prize  you  failed 
to  win  yesterday  will  seem  a  trivial  and  empty  honour." 

"  I  want  no  bribes,"  said  the  Captain  between  his 
teeth. 

"  I  will  make  you  captain  of  my  body-guard,"  pur- 
sued the  Princess  in  tones  of  soft  entreaty.  "  It  will 
be  your  sacred  duty  to  guard  my  person  day  and 
night.  Ulrich,  for  the  sake  of  the  old  days  at  Weiss- 
heim,  will  you  let  me  pass?  " 

An  anarchy  of  tangled  emotions  rioted  through  the 
Captain's  brain.  He  half-closed  his  eyes,  and  his 
whole  form  tottered  like  that  of  a  drunken  man. 

"  Ulrich ! "  breathed  the  Princess. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  a  life-time  of  twenty 
seconds,  during  which  the  blood  left  the  Captain's 
face  and  crowded  his  bursting  heart.  Theri  came  the 
jangling  crash  of  steel  on  stone.  Captain  Ulrich  von» 
Hiigelweiler  had  thrown  his  sword  on  to  the  steps  of 
the  prison-house. 

"  Soldiers,  present  arms ! "  he  called  out  in  a  hoarse 
voice;  and  between  the  ranks  of  saluting  infantry  the 
Princess  and  her  followers  passed  into  the  Strafeburg. 


CHAPTER    SIXTEEN 

KING   AND    CANAILLE 

"WHERE  is  George  Trafford?"  asked  Mrs.  Saunders 
of  her  husband. 

It  was  just  on  ten  o'clock,  ten  minutes,  in  fact,  after 
Trafford  had  bluffed  an  exit  from  the  Neptunburg; 
and  Mrs.  Saunders  was  sitting  in  the  Rubens  room  in 
the  company  of  Frau  von  Bilderbaum.  To  retire  to 
bed  in  the  present  unsettled  state  of  affairs  was  un- 
thinkable, and  the  two  women, — so  unlike  in  tempera- 
ment and  feature,  yet  linked  by  the  subtle  bond  of 
wifehood, — sat,  to  their  mutual  comfort,  in  the  great 
state-room  opening  on  to  the  palace  courtyard.  Dis- 
turbances were  common  things  at  Weidenbruck,  but  to- 
night there  was  an  extra  pressure  in  the  atmosphere. 
The  air  was  full  of  fever  and  unrest,  pregnant  with 
some  issue  of  decisive  import.  A  dull  anxiety  was. 
written  on  the  women's  faces ;  their  eyes  seemed  watch- 
ing, their  ears  expectantly  listening  for  something. 
The  tension  was  almost  unbearable  in  its  strained 
silence,  and  Mrs.  Saunders  hailed  her  husband's  ad- 
vent with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Where  is  George  Trafford?  "  she  asked  again. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Saunders,  "  but  he's  not 
where  I  intended  him  to  be — locked  in  my  dressing- 
room  with  a  brandy  and  soda,  and  a  pack  of  cards  to 
play  patience  with.'* 

Saunders  had  entered  from  the  courtyard,  though 
163 


164  GLORIA 

the  chamber  possessed  two  other  doors  connecting  it 
with  the  corridors  of  the  Neptunburg.  The  room  it- 
self was  of  considerable  size,  rich  in  works  of  art,  mel- 
low with  abundant  candle-light  and  the  numerous  gold 
frames  that  housed  some  choice  products  of  the  old 
Flemish  painters.  The  fireplace, — by  which  the  two 
ladies  were  seated, — was  a  much  carven  affair  of  pale- 
rose  marble  with  blue-purple  markings.  The  tiles 
round  the  huge  grate  were  of  old  Persian  manufacture, 
holding  the  rich  blue  and  green  tints  that  modern 
chemistry  strives  so  unsuccessfully  to  approximate. 
In  one  corner  of  the  room  stood  a  tall,  ornate  clock, 
presented  to  a  predecessor  of  Karl's  by  the  Pompa- 
dour: on  the  mantelpiece  reposed  a  pair  of  porphyry 
vases,  the  gift  of  the  late  Czar. 

Frau  von  Bilderbaum  was  smoking  a  cigarette  in 
enormous  puffs,  her  wide  nostrils  dilating  spasmodi- 
cally with  the  emotion  that  filled  her  capacious  frame. 

"  Then  you  have  no  idea  where  this  wretched  Ameri- 
can is  ?  "  she  demanded  in  thick  tones  of  pent  wrathful- 
ness. 

"Not  the  faintest,"  replied  Saunders.  "If  I 
hazarded  a  guess,  I  should  say  in  the  Strafeburg." 

"  A  prisoner?  "  questioned  Mrs.  Saunders  quickly. 
"  I  hope  so." 

"  I  hope  so,  too,"  said  Saunders,  "  but  I  have  my 
doubts ;  I  wish  I  had  never  induced  the  fellow  to  come 
to  Grimland — he  is  too  much  in  his  element.  He  is  just 
the  sort  of  lunatic  to  appeal  to  the  average  Weiden- 
brucker.  But  talking  of  lunatics,  thank  goodness 
Father  Bernhardt  is  safe  under  lock  and  key  at  last ! " 


KING    AND    CANAILLE  165 

"How  do  you  know?  "  asked  Frau  von  Bilderbaum. 

"  A  telephone  message  has  just  come  through  from 
the  police-station ;  it  is  good  news.  With  that  devil- 
ridden  priest  at  large,  and  Nervy  Trafford  fooling 
about,  it's  tough  work  keeping  a  sane  Government  on 
its  legs." 

"  I  thought  you  were  not  going  to  let  Mr.  Trafford 
leave  the  Palace?  "  interjected  Mrs.  Saunders. 

"  That  was  certainly  our  intention,"  admitted 
Saunders,  "  but  he  argued  otherwise,  his  argument 
taking  the  practical  form  of  a  six-chambered  revolver, 
and — well " 

"He  threatened  you?"  interrupted  Mrs.  Saunders 
indignantly. 

"  Not  me,  perhaps ;  but  Meyer  certainly  by  impli- 
cation. Anyway,  we  let  him  go  to  his  fate.  He  will 
quite  probably  be  shot  heading  a  charge  against  the 
military.  In  anything  of  a  disturbance  he  sees  red, 
and  his  thinking  powers  come  automatically  to  a 
standstill." 

"  I  hate  this  Mr.  Trafford !  "  exclaimed  Frau  von 
Bilderbaum  in  harsh,  guttural  tones,  and  puffing 
furiously  at  her  cigarette.  "  Why  does  not  he  stay  in 
his  own  country  and  wreck  that  ?  I  hate  him !  " 

"  I  don't,"  said  Mrs.  Saunders  quietly ;  "  I  rather 
like  him.  But  I  wish  my  husband  had  knocked  him  on 
the  head  rather  than  let  him  leave  the  Neptunburg." 

At  this  point  the  door  opened  and  the  King  entered, 
accompanied  by  General  von  Bilderbaum.  The  Gen- 
eral's face  was  scarlet,  contrasting  effectively  with  his 
snowy  hair  and  moustache  and  the  immaculate  white- 


166  GLORIA 

ness  of  his  uniform.  His  manner, — like  that  of  his 
wife, — was  strongly  agitated,  and  it  was  evident  that 
the  civic  tumult  had  roused  his  fighting  spirit  to  a 
point  dangerously  near  apoplexy.  The  King,  in  con- 
trast, looked  grey  and  sad,  but  his  face  brightened  a 
little  as  the  ladies  rose  at  his  entrance. 

"  Things  seem  to  be  quieting  down  a  little  in  the 
Domkircheplatz,"  he  said.  "  I  have  been  talking  to 
my  Prefect  Kummer  on  the  telephone,  and  he  thinks 
the  square  will  be  empty  in  half  an  hour." 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  Mrs.  Saunders  simply. 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  echoed  Saunders ;  "  I  feel  some 
responsibility  in  the  matter.  It  was  I  who  induced 
Trafford  to  come  to  Weidenbruck.  The  fellow  was  in 
trouble,  and  I  wanted  to  show  him  sport ;  but  I  did  not 
want  him  to  find  his  sport  at  the  expense  of  my 
host." 

Karl  laid  a  kindly  hand  on  Saunders'  shoulder. 

"  My  very  dear  friend,"  he  said,  "  this  morning  you 
saved  my  life.  About  this  time  three  years  ago  you 
saved  it  under  even  more  dramatic  circumstances  and 
at  even  greater  personal  risk.  There  is  no  room  for 
apologies  from  you  to  me."  A  silence  followed  his 
Majesty's  words.  Then  the  King  went  on:  "  Besides, 
this  mad  American  friend  of  yours  is  a  very  small  part 
of  my  troubles.  Were  my  subjects  loyal  men  and  true, 
his  capacity  for  harm  would  be  nil;  as  it  is,  I  think  we 
over-rate  it.  With  Father  Bernhardt  in  the  Strafe- 
burg  we  can  sleep  safe  and  sound  in  our  beds  to- 
night." His  Majesty  touched  the  electric  bell.  "  Let 
us  drink  death  to  anarchy  and  revolution,"  he  went  on, 


KING   AND    CANAILLE  167 

as  the  ma j  or-domo  Bomcke  appeared.  "  Bomcke, 
brandy  and  cigarettes,  if  you  please." 

In  a  trice  the  whiskered  and  stately  Bomcke  pro- 
duced the  necessary  stimulants  from  a  Buhl  cupboard, 
and  set  the  shining  glass  and  silver  on  the  great  cir- 
cular table  of  Florentine  inlay. 

The  men  filled  their  glasses  in  turn. 

"  Death  to  anarchy,  sire ! "  cried  General  von  Bil- 
derbaum ;  "  and  may  my  sword  help  to  deal  its  death- 
blow." 

"  Death  to  traitors,  cowards,  and "  began 

Saunders,  but  his  speech  was  checked  by  the  appear- 
ance on  the  scene  of  General  Meyer. 

"  What  news?  "  demanded  his  Majesty. 

"  Good  and  bad,  sire,"  replied  the  Commander-in- 
Chief. 

"  The  good  first,  please,"  said  Karl. 

"  The  Red  Hussars  have  refused  to  quit  their  bar- 
racks." 

The  King's  face  fell. 

"  You  call  that  good  news?  "  he  said  after  a  pause. 

"  Distinctly,"  returned  Meyer.  "  Had  they  turned 
out  they  would  undoubtedly  have  sided  with  the  rioters. 
I  know  their  admirable  Colonel,  and  the  etat  d'ame  of 
his  command." 

The  King  put  his  brandy  and  soda  down  untasted 
on  the  table. 

"  Now  for  the  bad  news,"  he  said  firmly. 

"  They  are  singing  the  *  Rothlied '  in  front  of  the 
Strafeburg,  sire,"  was  the  Commander-in-Chief's  reply. 

"  Is  that  all?  "  demanded  his  Majesty. 


168  GLORIA 

Meyer  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Your  Majesty's  subjects  are  very  musical  folk," 
he  said  drily,  "  and  the  *  Rothlied '  is  a  very  remark- 
able melody.  I  heard  it  the  other  day,  and  it  had  al- 
most the  effect  of  making  me  feel  heroic.  That  speaks 
volumes  for  its  potency." 

In  the  silence  which  followed  these  words  was  heard 
the  distant  tinkling  of  the  telephone  bell.  The  King 
made  as  though  to  move  towards  the  door,  but  changed 
his  mind  and  remained  where  he  was,  signalling  to 
Bomcke  to  take  the  call.  There  were  three  endless 
minutes  during  which  no  one  spoke ;  on  the  faces  of  all 
might  be  read  in  contracted  brow  and  half-open  mouth 
the  sharp  dominating  expectancy  that  possessed  them, 
the  sickening  fear  of  ill-tidings,  and  the  struggling 
hope  of  good.  Then  the  major-domo  reappeared,  and 
the  struggling  hope  was  extinguished.  Bomcke's  face, 
always  waxen,  was  deathly  pale,  and  his  suave,  smug 
pomposity  had  given  way  to  a  palsy  of  agitation. 

"Well?"  demanded;  the  King;  but  no  answering 
speech  issued  from  Bomcke's  twitching  lips. 

"Speak,  man!"  interjected  General  von  Bilder- 
baum  wrathfully,  but  the  major-domo  merely  bowed 
unctuously  and  fumbled  stupidly  with  his  white  hands. 

"  What  is  it,  Bomcke?  "  asked  the  King,  more  kindly. 

"  The — Strafeburg "  said  the  steward,  forming 

his  words  with  infinite  difficulty. 

"  Go  on,"  said  Meyer,  almost  as  bloodless  as  the  in- 
vertebrate major-domo. 

"  The  Strafeburg,"  repeated  Bomcke  stupidly. 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes !  "  screamed  Frau  von  Bilderbaum, 


KING   AND    CANAILLE  169 

losing  all  patience.  **  And  what  about  the  Strafe- 
burg?  " 

The  question  was  never  answered;  perhaps  it  never 
needed  an  answer,  for  the  stern  faces  of  the  King  and 
his  Generals  showed  that  they  knew  the  worst.  But 
there  was  another  reason  for  postponing  their  interro- 
gations. A  distant  sound  of  many  voices  was  audible 
to  the  inmates  of  the  Rubens  room.  It  was  a  sound 
similar  to  that  which  had  interrupted  the  dinner-party 
at  the  Neptunburg  that  evening,  a  snarling  roar  of 
malice  and  insensate  fury.  Louder  it  swelled  with 
amazing  rapidity, — and  there  was  a  note  of  reckless 
triumph  in  its  depths  that  had  something  very  terrible 
and  disconcerting  in  it. 

"Have  I  your  Majesty's  permission?"  demanded 
General  von  Bilderbaum,  drawing  his  sword  and  hold- 
ing it  in  stiff  salute. 

"  Where  is  the  guard?  "  asked  Karl. 

"  In  the  courtyard,  sire,"  replied  Meyer,  "  Cap- 
tain Traun-Nelidoff  is  in  command." 

"  Have  I  your  Majesty's  permission  to  take  over 
that  command?  "  persisted  Von  Bilderbaum. 

For  a  moment  the  King  stood  motionless  in  deep 
thought. 

"  I  will  usurp  that  position  myself,"  he  said  at 
length,  going  to  the  door  leading  on  to  the  courtyard 
and  flinging  it  open.  The  roar  of  the  shrieking  rabble 
burst  in  through  the  doorway  in  waves  of  terrifying 
sound. 

Meyer  poured  himself  out  a  half-tumblerful  of  neat 
brandy,  thought  better  of  it,  and  handed  it  to  the  col- 


170  GLORIA 

lapsing  Bomcke.  When  he  looked  up  the  King  had 
disappeared  into  the  courtyard,  with  General  von  Bil- 
derbaum  and  Saunders  in  his  wake.  With  a  strange 
grimace  and  a  muttered  "  Folly ! "  he  followed,  too, 
with  leaden  steps.  For  a  moment  Mrs.  Saunders  and 
Frau  von  Bilderbaum  were  left  alone.  Their  eyes  met, 
and  then  their  hands.  Both  asked  a  silent  question,  and 
both  returned  a  silent  answer.  Then,  throwing  softie 
loose  wraps  around  their  shoulders,  they  also  went  out 
to  face  the  grim  menace  of  the  night. 

In  the  courtyard  of  the  Neptunburg  a  company  of 
soldiers  was  drawn  up  before  the  fountain  and  leaden 
statue  of  the  sea-god.  On  three  sides  were  stone 
fa9ades  of  piedmented  windows  and  classic  pilasters. 
On  the  fourth  side,  facing  the  Konigstrasse,  were 
wrought-iron  gates  between  high  piers  of  carved 
masonry,  bearing  electric  arc  lamps.  Overhead  the 
stars  burned  clear  in  the  cold  heaven;  underfoot  was 
the  trampled  carpet  of  semestral  snow. 

"  Shall  we  fire  on  the  mob,  sire?  "  demanded  Traun- 
Nelidoff,  a  tall,  lean  officer,  whose  eyes  shone  as 
brightly  as  his  drawn  sword. 

Karl  shook  his  head.  The  rabble  were  pressed 
against  the  iron  railings  in  a  frenzy  of  destructive 
lust.  Hands  were  thrust  graspingly.  between  the  bars, 
curses  and  jeers  issued  unceasingly  from  grinning  lips; 
the  analogy  to  terriers  outside  a  rat-trap  was  irresis- 
tible. But  Karl  was  taking  stock  of  the  personnel  of 
his  enemies.  There  were  low  ruffians  in  abundance, 
"  hooligans,"  "  apaches,"  "  larrikins "  (as  they  are 
called  in  different  cities),  "  nightwolves,"  as  they  were 


KING    AND    CANAILLE  171 

called  in  Weidenbruck — men  with  the  narrow,  receding 
foreheads  that  can  only  house  vile  thoughts,  the  ugly, 
misshapen  mouths  that  can  only  utter  base  words,  the 
long,  loose  arms  that  are  more  fitted  for  garotting  than 
honest  work.  Yet  there  were  others :  men  with  hot  eyes, 
indeed,  and  upraised  voices,  but  clothed  in  decent  gar- 
ments, burghers  of  some  standing  in  the  Stadt,  men 
with  a  stake  in  the  country  who  would  not  welcome 
anarchy  for  its  own  wild  sake.  There  were  soldiers, 
too,  in  the  throng,  and  here  and  there  a  smart  uniform 
that  bespoke  an  officer  of  the  line.  Karl  watched,  and 
as  he  watched  the  lines  deepened  on  his  grey  face. 

"  Traun-Nelidoff,"  he  shouted  hoarsely,  "  open  the 
gates ! " 

"We  are  to  charge,  sire?"  came  the  breathless  in- 
quiry. 

"  No.  These  are  my  people ;  I  wish  to  speak  with 
them." 

Traun-Nelidoff  protested  with  a  glance,  but  Karl's 
face  was  set  like  stone. 

With  slow  steps  the  Captain  of  the  Guard  advanced 
to  the  palace  gates.  He  laid  his  hand  on  the  huge  key, 
but  it  would  not  budge.  He  put  the  point  of  his  sword 
into  the  iron  ring  and  used  it  as  a  lever,  and  with  a 
raucous  clang  the  bolt  shot  back.  There  was  no  need 
to  do  more.  In  a  twinkling  the  twin  gates  were  hurled 
open  by  the  dense  pressure  of  the  closely-packed  mob, 
and  in  at  few  seconds  the  stately  courtyard  was  a  mass 
of  revolutionaries. 

The  King  and  his  late  companions  of  the  Rubensaal 
were  separated  from  the  Guard  by  the  rush  of  incomers, 


172  GLORIA 

but  there  was  no  attack  made  upon  their  person.  For 
a  moment  even  there  was  silence;  perhaps  the  unex- 
pectedness of  the  situation  gave  the  rebels  pause ;  per- 
haps the  dignity  of  the  royal  presence  shamed  their 
violence.  And,  in  that  silence,  Karl  stepped  forward 
as  if  to  speak,  but  just  at  that  moment  there  was  a 
sudden  cry  of — 

"  Way  there !  way  for  the  Queen  Gloria ! "  and  with 
a  crack  of  a  whip  a  sleigh  drove  through  the  open 
gates  into  the  courtyard.  The  driver  was  George 
Trafford!  In  the  body  of  the  car  sat  the  Princess 
Gloria,  pale  and  softly  weeping,  but  struggling  bravely 
with  her  tears.  On  one  side  of  her  was  Doctor  Matti, 
and  on  the  other  Father  Bernhardt.  But  there  was 
something  else  in  the  sleigh,  something  that  was  neither 
man  nor  woman,  and  yet  had  the  lineaments  of  a  human 
being.  The  Iron  Maiden  had  been  taken  from  the  cap- 
tured Strafeburg,  and  was  being  borne  in  triumph  to 
the  home  of  its  owner.  Ever  since  the  death  of  the  late 
Archbishop, — and  the  spreading  of  the  vile  legend 
which  ascribed  his  sudden  demise  to  the  embrace  of  the 
celebrated  Eisenmadchen, — the  thing  had  stood  as  the 
symbol  of  the  cruelty  and  despotism  of  the  twenty- 
second  Karl.  So  when  the  tide  of  revolution  had  swept 
into  the  ancient  prison-house,  rude  hands  had  plucked 
the  maiden  from  her  home,  and  set  her  on  the  sleigh 
with  the  leaders  of  their  emancipation. 

The  sleigh  pulled  up  before  the  King. 

"  I  want  to  avoid  bloodshed,"  began  Trafford  in 
English,  but  even  as  he  spoke  the  mob  re-found  its  old 
temper.  Cries  and  curses  ruined  all  prospect  of  a  par- 


KING   AND    CANAILLE  173 

ley;  desperate  men  and  wild  women  pressed  in  on  the 
royal  party,  and  clutching  hands  were  thrust  even  in 
the  King's  face.  This  was  too  much  for  General  von 
Bilderbaum.  His  hand,  which  had  been  itching  on  his 
sword  hilt,  flashed  the  weapon  from  its  sheath  and 
struck  down  a  sallow  ruffian  who  had  impinged  too 
recklessly  on  the  King's  person.  In  an  instant  rough 
hands  were  laid  on  the  stout  old  soldier,  and  the  Gen- 
eral's honourable  career  looked  to  be  near  its  certain 
termination.  But  there  was  one  near  him  as  devoted 
to  the  General  as  the  General  was  to  his  Sovereign. 
With  the  quickness  of  thought  Frau  von  Bilderbaum 
hurled  her  ample  person  between  her  husband  and  his 
assailants.  A  plump  hand  was  swung,  there  was  a 
sounding  smack  of  flesh  meeting  flesh,  and  a  "  night 
wolf  "  was  lying  prostrate  and  smarting  in  the  snow. 
The  sight  of  the  Amazonian  fury  standing  with  di- 
lated nostrils  and  fiery  glance  before  her  lord  and 
master  touched  the  humour  of  the  crowd. 

"  Well  struck,  housewife ! "  shouted  one ;  and  for  a 
moment  a  burst  of  laughter  took  the  place  of  fierce 
cries  and  yells  of  derision.  But  while  the  incident 
was  taking  place,  Trafford  had  descended  from  his  box- 
seat  and  engaged  in  conversation  with  Saunders.  The 
latter  listened  with  a  grave  face,  looked  doubtful, 
and  ultimately  nodded.  Then,  as  Trafford  remounted 
to  his  seat,  Saunders  in  turn  whispered  earnestly  in 
the  King's  ear.  And  almost  at  once, — so  quick  are 
the  moods  of  mobs, — the  comic  scene  was  forgotten 
and  the  lust  of  vengeance  came  uppermost  again  in 
the  minds  of  the  insurgents. 


174.  GLORIA 

"  Death  to  the  tyrants !  "  shouted  some.  "  Death 
to  Karl!  Away  with  oppressors  of  the  people's  lib- 
erty!" 

It  was  a  moment  of  crisis.  Things  had  reached  a 
head,  and  in  a  minute  unless  something  was  done  there 
would  be  a  hideous  massacre. 

With  upraised  hands  Karl  plunged  boldly  forward 
and  addressed  the  crowd.  He  spoke,  but  no  word  was 
audible.  A  deafening  chorus  of  jeers  and  curses  stifled 
his  utterance.  Pale,  leonine,  unflinching,  he  faced  the 
rabid  throng.  Then  suddenly  Trafford  and  Father 
Bernhardt  descended  from  the  sleigh.  Between  them, 
and  with  the  help  of  Doctor  Matti,  they  dragged  the 
Iron  Maiden  out  on  to  the  snow  of  the  courtyard.  The 
Princess  bent  forward  in  an  agony  of  entreaty,  but 
the  ex-priest  silenced  her  with  a  word.  Then  quick  as 
thought  Trafford  seized  the  isolated  monarch,  pushed 
him  inside  the  Eisenmadchen,  and  with  an  apparently 
great  effort  shut  the  doors  slowly  on  his  victim.  The 
horror  took  the  crowd  by  surprise.  They  had  come 
lusting  for  blood  but  not  for  torture.  A  low  intake 
of  the  breath  made  simultaneously  by  a  hundred 
throats  gave  a  vast  sibilant  sound.  Men  looked  at 
each  other  in  frozen  horror.  A  woman  burst  into  high 
hysterical  laughter.  Then  with  a  sudden  impulse  born 
of  guilty  remorse,  the  huge  concourse  began  to  slink 
away  from  the  scene.  At  first  by  twos  and  threes, 
then  by  tens  and  twenties,  then  in  one  universal  strug- 
gling rush.  In  a  few  minutes  the  only  occupants  of 
the  courtyard  were  the  royal  party,  the  guard — and 
the  Iron  Maiden. 


KING   AND    CANAILLE  175 

"  Close  the  gates,  please,  Traun-Nelidoff,"  ordered 
Saunders. 

Mechanically  the  officer  did  as  he  was  bid.  General 
Meyer  was  looking  at  his  boots  with  a  vacant  stare. 
Beads  of  perspiration  were  standing  on  his  brow.  Von 
Bilderbaum  was  rubbing  snow  in  an  absent-minded  way 
on  his  wife's  face,  the  lady  having  swooned  in  his  arms. 

"  You  let  him  do  it — you  let  him  do  it,"  muttered 
Mrs.  Saunders  reproachfully  to  her  husband. 

"  Yes,  I  let  him  do  it,"  he  answered.  "  It  was  Traf- 
ford's  own  idea,  and  shows  how  near  genius  lies  to 
madness.  You  see,  there  were  no  spikes  in  the  Iron 
Maiden;  they  were  all  in  Trafford's  overcoat  pocket." 


CHAPTER    SEVENTEEN 

"  CAPTAIN  "    TRAFFORD 


IN  his  room  in  the  Hotel  Concordia,  Nervy  Trafford 
was  standing  before  a  long  looking-glass,  surveying 
his  mirrored  image  with  an  ever-recurring  smile.  Two 
days  had  passed  since  the  Strafeburg  had  fallen,  two 
busy  days  in  the  nation's  history,  and  this  particular 
morning  found  him  arrayed  in  the  uniform  of  a  Grim- 
land  Staff-Captain. 

The  dark  green  tunic  with  its  fur  trimming  and 
black  braiding  suited  his  face  and  figure  admirably. 
He  twirled  his  moustaches,  and  disengaged  his  sword 
from  between  his  legs,  and  his  smile  broadened  to  .  a 
laugh. 

"  I  only  need  a  false  nose,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  and 
I  should  make  a  splendid  impersonator  of  Offenbachian 
opera."  And,  drawing  his  sword,  he  sang  with  great 
spirit  and  much  expression,  that  inimitable  air:  "  Voici 
le  sabre  de  mon  pere — voici  le  sabre  de-e  mon  pere." 

A  knock  at  the  door  checked  his  vibrato. 

"  Herein!  "  he  called. 

A  boy  in  a  tight  brown  uniform,  adorned  with  the 
usual  unnecessary  buttons,  entered. 

"  A  note,  Excellency." 

Trafford  took  the  missive,  which  bore  the  royal  seal. 
It  read  as  follows: 

176 


"CAPTAIN"    TRAFFORD  177 

*'  Nepturiburg. 
'*  My  Good  Friend, 

"  The  procession  Heaves  here  at  mid-day,  when  you 
must  be  in  close  attendance  on  the  Royal  Person. 
Lunch  at  2  p.  m.  After  lunch,  an  informal  Council  in 
the  Throne  room.  After  the  Council,  make  your  way 
to  the  private  apartments.  I  "will  give  orders  for  you 
to  be  admitted. 

Yours  very  bewildered, 

G.  v.  S.,  I  mean  G.  R." 

Trafford  read,  and  at  the  conclusion  he  whistled. 
What  did  it  mean,  what  could  it  mean  but  one  thing? 
The  situation  presented  itself  as  a  syllogism  of  amaz- 
ing but  irrefutable  argument.  The  Princess  was  going 
to  be  crowned.  It  was  undeniable  that  he  had  con- 
tributed largely  to  that  consummation.  The  corollary 
wqs  a  ceremony  of  marriage  between  himself  and  the 
newly-elected  sovereign.  No  wonder  the  smile  gave 
place  to  a  frown  of  deep  bewilderment.  No  wonder 
he  passed  his  fingers  repeatedly  through  his  thick  and 
stubborn  hair.  The  compact  that  was  now  disturbing 
his  peace  of  mind  had  been  entered  into  with  the  lightest 
of  light  hearts.  The  night  he  had  first  met  the  Princess 
he  had  been  a  soldier  of  fortune  primed  with  good  wine 
and  the  spirit  of  reckless  adventure.  But  since  then 
things  had  progressed  with  him,  as  with  the  state  of 
Grimland,  rapidly. 

The  condition  of  spiritual  stagnation  in  which  he 
had  visited  Grimland  was  being  slowly  but  surely  over- 
come by  fresh  interests  and  rousing  incidents.  Three 


178  GLORIA 

days  ago  it  would  have  seemed  a  capital  jest  to  go 
through  the  ceremony  of  marriage  with  an  exceptionally 
beautiful  girl  with  a  kingdom  for  her  dowry.  Now 
it  seemed  like  a  piece  of  wanton  blasphemy  in  the  worst 
possible  taste. 

He  put  a  cigarette  between  his  lips,  and  took  a 
match  from  a  heavy  glass  bowl  that  did  duty  as  match- 
box. He  struck  it  on  the  ribbed  side  of  the  bowl,  but 
the  match  burned  his  fingers  before  even  it  made 
acquaintance  with  the  tobacco. 

Supposing  he  went  through  this  ceremony,  he 
reasoned,  and  supposing  in  this  topsy-turvy  country 
the  ceremony  was  approved  and  ratified  by  the  State — 
what  then?  A  queer  thrill  ran  through  him  at  the 
supposition,  but  he  shook  his  head  fiercely.  The  more 
he  saw  of  the  Princess  the  more  he  liked  her,  and  the 
more  he  realised  the  difference  between  liking  and  loving. 
There  were  strange  ideals  still  lurking  in  the  recesses 
of  his  unconventional  brain,  and  to  wed  a  woman  for  any 
less  reason  than  a  deep  spiritual  devotion  seemed  to 
him  a  prostitution  of  God's  choicest  gifts.  And  he 
could  not  honestly  call  his  regard  for  the  high-couraged 
little  Schattenberg  a  deep  spiritual  devotion.  It  was 
clean  and  healthy  as  the  north  wind,  and  every  whit 
as  wholesome  and  refreshing — but  was  it  even  approxi- 
mately like  the  sentiment  he  had  entertained  for  the 
pedestalled  Angela  Knox? 

He  made  a  second  attempt  to  light  his  cigarette, 
and  this  time  with  success.  He  blew  out  a  great  puff 
of  blue  smoke  and  gazed  earnestly  into  its  unravelling 
depths.  And  for  a  prolonged  minute  of  self-hypnotism 


"CAPTAIN"    TRAFFORD  179 

he  was  dematerialised  out  of  the  picturesque  uniform  of 
a  Grimland  officer,  and  was  standing,  smug  and  frock- 
coated,  in  a  New  York  drawing-room.  Before  him  was 
a  very  tall  woman  with  a  wonderfully  correct  profile 
and  an  abundance  of  honey-coloured  hair.  This  was 
the  creature  to  whom  he  had  offered  the  worship  of  his 
life,  the  woman  whose  refusal  of  his  suit  had  thrust 
him  to  the  very  brink  of  the  grim  precipice  of  which  no 
man  knoweth  the  bottom.  He  gazed  and  gazed  and 
even  admired — but  he  was  unmoved.  Slowly  the  smoke 
faded,  and  the  dream  in  the  smoke,  and  he  laughed 
aloud. 

Self-analysis  is  a  difficult  game  for  all,  and  to  one 
of  his  complex  temperament  an  altogether  hopeless 
proceeding.  And  so,  as  if  to  blow  the  crowded  thoughts 
from  his  brain,  he  stepped  to  his  high  window  over- 
looking the  city,  and  flung  open  the  casement.  The 
bells  of  the  cathedral  were  pealing  joyous  music  into  the 
winter  air.  The  city  was  en  fete.  The  flag  of  Grim- 
land  was  flying  from  all  public  and  semi-public 
buildings. 

Shops,  private  houses,  and  hotels  were  gay  with 
bunting  and  festoons  of  artificial  flowers.  And  the 
sun, — as  if  to  honour  the  new  dynasty  with  its  more 
than  royal  majesty, — was  gilding  men's  handiwork  till 
tinsel  became  silver  and  gold,  and  every  banner  a  brave 
thing  of  joy  and  colour  and  heartfelt  holiday. 

Within  two  days  of  the  supposed  death  of  Karl 
the  new  dynasty  was  to  be  inaugurated  with  all  the 
pomp  that  State  and  Church  could  lend  the  occasion. 

Things  had  progressed,  not  at  a  run,  but  at  a  gallop. 


180  GLORIA 

And  for  this  Father  Bernhardt  was  responsible.  The 
man  was  a  wonder.  He  may  have  been  mad,  but  if  so 
his  madness  was  the  distortion  of  a  splendid  brain,  not 
the  aberration  of  a  weak  one.  He  had  gathered  the 
reins  of  government  into  his  own  hands  with  the  skill 
and  confidence  of  a  born  ruler.  There  was  no  anarchy, 
no  confusion,  no  hiatus  in  the  city's  ordering.  Men 
were  conciliated  whom  it  was  wise  to  conciliate.  Others 
were  over-awed,  a  few  were  suppressed.  He  seemed  to 
know  intuitively  everyone's  sentiments  and  every  man's 
abilities.  Doctor  Matti  was  made  Prefect  of  Police, 
Yon  Hiigelweiler  became  Captain  of  the  Guard.  Traf- 
ford  was  given  an  official  position  on  the  staff  of  the 
Queen's  army.  Generally  speaking,  there  was  little  re- 
distribution of  existing  authorities.  The  army  wel- 
comed the  new  regime,  believing  that  a  change  of 
dynasty  might  involve  a  change  from  the  peaceful 
policy  of  the  twenty-second  Karl.  Business  men  and 
professional  men  accepted  it  even  when  they  did  not 
welcome  it.  There  was  no  alternative.  Karl,  so  they 
believed,  was  dead.  His  son  was  far  away  at  Weiss- 
heim,  and  was  far  too  young  a  little  person  to  rule 
the  mad  whirlwind  of  his  country's  policies.  So  the 
fait  accompli  became  the  thing  accepted,  and  as  the 
joy  bells  rang  out  their  message  the  contagion  of  their 
silver  tongues  turned  the  hearts,  even  of  the  lukewarm, 
to  glad  allegiance  to  the  young  Queen. 

"  Poor  little  Princess,"  mused  Trafford,  as  he  gazed 
out  at  the  sparkling  panorama  of  white  roofs  and  snow- 
crested  battlements,  "  what  an  ordeal  lies  before  you, 
to-day  and  to-morrow,  and  the  day  after  to-morrow! 


"CAPTAIN"    TRAFFORD  181 

It  is  the  day  after  to-morrow  one  fears  in  Grimland. 
The  sun  does  not  always  shine  at  Weidenbruck,  and 
the  cathedral  bells  are  not  always  instruments  of  joy." 

Another  knock  at  the  door  interrupted  his  reverie. 
This  time  it  was  Von  Hiigelweiler  who  responded  to  his 
"  herein." 

"Good-morning,"  said  Trafford  genially,  extending 
a  hand  in  greeting. 

But  no  answering  smile  showed  on  the  Captain's 
stern  and  gloomy  countenance,  and  instead  of  grasp- 
ing Trafford's  hand,  his  own  went  up  in  a  stiff  salute. 

Von  Hiigelweiler  was  suffering  from  Trafford  on  the 
brain.  His  natural  dislike  for  the  American,  born  of 
the  latter's  triumph  on  the  Rundsee,  had  been  extraor- 
dinarily deepened  by  the  events  of  the  past  few  days. 
It  was  Trafford  to  whom  all  glory  for  the  capture  of 
the  Strafeburg  redounded;  Trafford  who  had  set  the 
"  Rothlied  "  going,  suborned  the  soldiers,  "  bossed  " 
everything  and  everybody  as  if  he  were  a  true  born 
patriot  instead  of  a  foreign  adventurer  with  the  devil's 
own  luck.  Why,  next  to  Father  Bernhardt  this  pig 
of  an  American  was  the  most  popular  man  in  Weiden- 
bruck! All  this,  in  itself,  was  a  source  of  considerable 
annoyance  to  the  sensitive  Captain  of  the  Guides ;  but 
what  touched  him  on  the  raw,  was  the  footing  on  which 
Trafford  seemed  to  stand  with  the  Princess  Gloria.  He 
knew  nothing  of  the  true  state  of  their  relations,  but 
he  perceived  at  once  an  ease  and  understanding  between 
them,  which  embittered  his  spirit  and  spoilt  his  whole 
pleasure  in  life.  He,  Von  Hiigelweiler,  had  forfeited 
his  self-respect,  risked  all  his  prospects,  his  soldier's. 


182  GLORIA 

honour,  for  the  sake  of  a  half-formulated  pledge,  for 
the  vague  shadow  of  a  promise  of  things  unutterably 
sweet.  Were  it  to  be  that  this  sacrifice  had  been  made 
in  vain,  that  this  hated  American  was  the  one  who  had 
come  between  him  and  the  heaven  of  his  desire,  there 
would  be  a  heavy  price  to  be  paid,  a  full  price,  a  reck- 
oning in  something  more  precious  than  gold  and  silver. 
And  so  he  had  come  to  Trafford's  rooms,  not  with  any 
definite  idea  either  of  eliciting  information  or  forcing 
a  quarrel,  but  because, — as  has  been  said, — he  had 
Trafford  on  the  brain,  and  he  felt  it  necessary  to  keep 
in  touch  with  him. 

"  To  what  do  I  owe  the  honour  of  this  visit  ?  "  the 
American  went  on,  getting  no  response  to  his  greeting. 

"  I  come  with  commands,"  said  the  Captain 
brusquely.  He  was  mindful  of  the  de  haut  en  bas 
manner  which  Trafford  had  employed  towards  him  that 
night  before  the  Strafeburg,  and  he  wished  to  reverse 
their  respective  positions  once  for  all.  "  You  have  been 
appointed  to  the  Staff,  and  I  am  your  superior  officer." 

"  Salaam !  Sahib,"  said  Trafford  with  a  facetious 
bow. 

Hiigelweiler  flushed,  and  went  on  in  angry  tones. 

"  My  orders  are  that  you  start  with  the  royal  pro- 
cession from  the  Neptunburg  at  mid-day.  I,  as  Cap- 
tain of  the  Guard,  shall  be  in  close  attendance  on  the 
Queen.  You  will  bring  up  the  rear  with  a  company 
of  the  Kurdeburg  Volunteers." 

Von  Hiigelweiler's  tone  was  designedly  over-bearing, 
but  Trafford  kept  his  temper  marvellously  well,  as  he 
sometimes  could,  when  occasion  demanded. 


"If  I  see  so  much  as  an  inch  of  blade  this  little 

hand-grenade  of  mine  will  play  havoc 

with  your  handsome  features" 


"CAPTAIN"    TRAFFORD  183 

"  Are  those  your  commands  or  the  Queen's  "  he 
asked,  tossing  the  glass  matchbox  a  little  way  into  the 
air  and  catching  it  again.  His  behaviour  irritated  Von 
Hiigelweiler  inexpressibly. 

"  They  are  commands — that  is  enough  for  you,"  he 
retorted  crudely. 

"  Not  nearly  enough,  I  assure  you,"  responded  Traf- 
ford,  with  exaggerated  blandness.  "I  have  her  Maj- 
esty's orders  to  be  in  close  attendance  on  her  royal 
person.  Until  I  get  counter-orders  from  an  equally 
high  source  I  shall  perform  the  pleasant  and  honour- 
able duty  of  being  in  the  closest  possible  proximity  to 
our  dear  Sovereign." 

Hiigelweiler's  face  became  livid  with  rage. 

"  Show  me  your  orders !  "  he  demanded  harshly. 

"  They  were  conveyed  in  a  private  note,  otherwise  I 
should  have  much  pleasure,  my  superior  officer." 

"  I  command  you  to  show  them  to  me ! "  cried  the 
Captain,  losing  all  patience ;  "  and  for  heaven's  sake 
cease  tossing  that  infernal  matchbox !  " 

This  was  altogether  too  much  for  Trafford's  sorely- 
tried  self-control.  He  had  held  himself  in  with  incal- 
culable patience  up  to  now,  but  he  felt  that  the  moment 
had  arrived  for  letting  himself  go — thoroughly. 

"  Von  Hiigelweiler,"  he  said  in  peculiarly  distinct 
tones,  "  we  live  in  stirring  times.  A  King  has  just 
lost  his  throne,  a  number  of  high  functionaries  have 
been  laid  low,  a  mass  of — shall  I  say,  scum — has  come 
to  the  surface.  No,  Captain,  don't  draw  your  sword," 
he  said  sternly,  as  the  Captain  flushed  crimson  and 
made  a  threatening  movement  with  his  sword-arm.  "  I 


184.  GLORIA 

am  not  an  unarmed  man,  my  brave  officer  " — poising 
the  substantial  matchbox  in  his  right  hand,  in  the 
manner  of  an  athlete  about  to  put  the  weight — "  and 
if  I  see  so  much  as  an  inch  of  blade  this  little  hand- 
grenade  of  mine  will  play  havoc  with  your  handsome 
features.  That's  better,"  he  went  on,  as  the  other 
shrank  back  furious  but  cowed  before  the  strange 
missile  which  threatened  his  physical  attractions, 
*'  that's  much  better,  mon  brav.  Curse  and  swear  and 
vow  vengeance,  but  don't  play  any  monkey  tricks,  or 
the  Guards  will  want  a  smarter  captain  to  lead  them  in 
the  procession  to-day.  And  one  more  word  before  you 
withdraw  the  sunshine  of  your  presence  from  the  room," 
he  continued,  as  the  other  made  a  movement  towards 
the  door  with  mingled  fury  and  disgust  on  his  coun- 
tenance. "  I  have  taken  a  hand  in  the  game  which  is 
being  played  in  Grimland.  I  have  thrown  in  my  lot 
with  Gloria  von  Schattenberg,  and  as  her  officer  I  am 
prepared  to  obey  as  well  as  command — in  reason.  But 
I  won't  be  bullied,  Herr  Captain.  I'm  not  built  that 
way." 

"  You  shall  answer  for  your  insolence ! "  came  vi- 
ciously through  Von  Hiigelweiler's  white  teeth. 

"  Maybe,  but  if  you  can  get  the  Queen  to  sanction 
my  arrest  you're  a  cleverer  man  than  you  look,  Von 
Hiigelweiler." 

A  curse  hissed  from  the  Captain's  lips,  and  he  half 
raised  his  clenched  fist  in  a  gesture  of  intolerable  pas- 
sion. Then  his  arm  dropped  limp  to  his  side  and  a 
look  of  suffering  came  into  his  eyes,  and  when  he  spoke, 
it  was  hoarsely  and  with  a  break  in  his  voice. 


"CAPTAIN"    TRAFFORD  185 

"  What  is  Gloria  von  Schattenberg  to  you  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  That  is  the  precise  question  I  was  asking  myself 
when  you  came  in,"  was  the  response.  "  To  answer 
it  I  need  solitude,  and  solitude,  Captain, — as  I  need 
not  point  out, — is  incompatible  with  your  presence  here. 
Captain  von  Hiigelweiler,  I  have  the  honour  of  wishing 
you  good-morning." 


CHAPTER  EIGHTEEN 

THE    FIRST    COUNCIL 

AT  noon  precisely  a  cannon  was  fired  from  the  tower 
of  the  Strafeburg.  Simultaneously  the  royal  proces- 
sion started  from  the  Neptunburg,  where  the  Princess 
Gloria  had  taken  up  her  official  residence  as  Sovereign 
of  Grimland!  It  was  a  brave  sight,  for  the  sky  was 
cloudless  and  the  snow-covered  city  sparkled  into  a 
myriad  smiles  under  the  kiss  of  the  winter  sun.  Every 
roof  wore  its  gleaming  mantle,  its  shimmering  festoons 
of  stainless  crystals;  and  the  countless  icicles  which 
depended  from  a  thousand  eaves  glistened  like  huge  dia- 
monds in  the  vivifying  sunlight. 

First  marched  the  Guards,  their  band  playing  the 
"  Rothlied,"  which  had  now  become  the  national  anthem. 
Then  came  the  Red  Hussars  with  their  bright  uniforms, 
bay  chargers,  and  gaily-pennoned  lances.  Then  the 
Guides  on  skis — a  popular  contingent,  judging  from 
the  cheers  they  drew.  Then  the  Queen's  Bodyguard, 
with  Von  Hiigelweiler  at  their  head.  Then  the  gilt, 
lumbering  State  carriage,  with  its  solitary  occupant, 
a  pale  little  figure,  bowing  to  right  and  left,  smiling, 
nervous,  pathetically  isolated, — a  pearl  in  a  huge  gold 
setting.  Next  came  distinguished  personages  on  horse- 
back, amongst  them  Trafford  on  a  great  chestnut 
charger,  and  Father  Bernhardt  in  dead  black,  seated  on 
a  big  mare  of  the  same  funereal  hue.  Then  Dragoons, 

186 


THE    FIRST    COUNCIL  187 

then  Police  with  Doctor  Matti  in  dark  uniform  and 
cocked  hat.  More  carriages  and  powdered  coachmen ; 
more  Dragoons,  more  Guards,  Guides,  and  Grenadiers, 
with  a  strong  contingent  of  Horse  Artillery  to  wind 
up  with. 

Nothing  was  lacking  either  in  the  splendour  of  the 
procession  or  the  enthusiasm  of  the  onlookers. 

Within  the  cathedral  the  solemn  ceremony  of  cor- 
onation was  conducted  by  the  Archbishop  of  Weiden- 
bruck,  who  maintained  the  traditional  enmity  to  Karl 
exhibited  by  his  predecessor.  And  the  vast  Gothic 
building  was  crowded  with  nobles  and  dignitaries,  and 
a  great  many  others  who  were  very  far  from  being  noble 
or  dignified,  but  who  had  been  admitted  lest  the  many 
absentees  should  leave  conspicuous  gaps  on  the  marble 
pavement.  For  there  were  many  of  the  older  families 
of  Grinaland  to  whom  the  events  of  the  last  few  days 
were  abhorrent,  and  who  regarded  the  haste  of  the  cor- 
onation as  something  shameless  and  indecent.  Neither, 
of  course,  were  there  any  foreign  representatives 
present.  Grimland  was  not  a  great  power,  but  its 
callous  condonence  of  a  crime  had  .shocked  the  moral 
sense  of  Christendom.  But  Bernhardt  had  insisted  on 
rapidity  of  action,  and  for  the  moment  his  word  was 
law. 

After  the  ceremony  came  the  State  luncheon  in  the 
Muschelsaal,  an  interminable  affair  of  many  viands 
and  divers  vintages.  Tr  afford, — seated  between  a 
Grafinn  of  aristocratic  lineaments  and  a  deputy's  wife 
with  plebeian  features  and  a  shrill  scheme  of  attire, — 
ate  little  and  thought  much.  His  eyes  were  constantly 


188  GLORIA 

on  the  white-faced  girl  who  sat  on  the  big  gilded  chair 
at  the  head  of  the  centre  table.  He  wondered  if  he  had 
ever  seen  anything  so  pale  and  sad  in  his  life.  The 
girl  who  had  faced  outlawry  and  risked  arrest  with  a 
light  heart  and  laughing  lips  seemed  crushed  and 
smothered  by  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  her  present 
dignity.  She  talked  and  smiled  and  tasted  food  and 
drink,  but  the  Princessin  Gloria  was  dead,  and  a  poor 
substitute  sat  in  her  gorgeous  coronation  robes  as  Grim- 
land's  Queen. 

In  time  the  long  repast  came  to  its  end,  the  guests 
departed,  and  those  who  were  bidden  repaired  to  the 
Council  in  the  Throne-room. 

At  this  the  Queen,  Father  Bernhardt,  Dr.  Matti, 
Von  Hiigelweiler,  and  George  Trafford  were  present. 
The  captain  of  the  Guides  ignored  the  American  with 
studied  scorn.  The  latter  responded  with  an  almost 
imperceptible  but  intensely  irritating  smile.  So  far  he 
had  triumphed,  for  he  had  occupied  a  post  of  great 
honour  in  the  procession,  and  Von  Hiigelweiler  felt  his 
enemy's  insolence  like  a  galling  wound. 

The  men  in  turn  proffered  formal  congratulations  to 
the  freshly-crowned  Sovereign.  Gloria  thanked  them 
with  a  determined  effort  at  graciousness. 

"Most  women,  my  good  friends,  have  one  day  in 
their  lives,"  she  concluded  with  the  ghost  of  a  smile. 
"  This  is  mine.  I  have  had  my  experience.  I  know 
what  it  feels  like  to  drive  through  a  mile  and  a  half 
of  cheering  men  and  women,  to  sit  in  a  gilded  carriage 
with  a  myriad  eyes  focussed  on  my  poor,  pale  face. 
I  know  the  solemn  moment  when  the  sacred  oil  is  poured 


THE    FIRST    COUNCIL  189 

on  my  hair  and  the  golden  rim  of  sovereignty  set  on 
my  brow.  I  have  dreamed  of  these  things,  and  the 
dream  was  at  least  as  real  as  the  reality.  It  is  a 
wonderful  thing  to  be  a  Queen — but — but " 

"  But  what,  madam?  "  asked  Dr.  Matti. 

The  big  doctor  looked  rather  more  ridiculous  as 
Chief  of  Police  than  as  a  drenched  revolutionary  in  the 
Cathedral  Square.  He  was  the  only  one  present  who 
seemed  out  of  place  in  the  sumptuous  Throne-room. 
Von  Hiigelweiler  was  an  aristocrat,  and  a  handsome 
one  at  that.  Bernhardt,  despite  his  wild,  black  eyes, 
was  a  man  of  breeding  and  palpable  distinction.  Traf- 
ford,  with  his  bold  features,  fierce  moustache,  and  pic- 
turesque green  uniform,  might  have  been  a  Polish 
count  of  bluest  blood  and  innumerable  quarterings. 
But  Matti,  with  his  big  hands,  heavy  features,  and  un- 
gainly figure,  was  plebeian  from  the  soles  of  his  enor- 
mous feet  to  the  tips  of  his  spatulate  fingers.  The 
romance  of  the  situation  had  no  appeal  for  him.  He 
served  the  Queen,  not  because  she  was  young  and 
beautiful,  but  because  he  honestly  believed  Karl  to  have 
been  a  cruel  and  corrupt  monarch,  and  he  hoped  for  a 
regenerate  and  better  ordered  State  under  his  suc- 
cessor. He  represented  the  prose  of  the  revolution,  the 
grim  sense  of  duty  which  often  makes  revolutionaries 
absolutely  callous  of  individual  suffering,  so  long  as 
their  concept  of  human  happiness  be  furthered. 

So  now  he  had  no  sympathy  with  Gloria's  mood  of 
weakness. 

"  But  what,  madam?  "  he  repeated. 

She  laughed  a  little  hysterically. 


190  GLORIA 

"  I  am  not  sure  it  is  not  better  fun  to  be  an  exile," 
she  sighed. 

The  doctor  winced  visibly  at  her  words. 

"  Life  was  not  meant  for  fun,"  he  said  irritably. 

"  Mine  was,  I  think,"  she  retorted.  "  A  certain 
gentleman,  by  name  Herr  Saunders,  told  me  I  should 
soon  tire  of  the  routine  and  regime  of  Queenhood.  I 
laughed  him  to  scorn,  but  I  am  beginning  to  think  he 
knew  me  better  than  I  knew  myself." 

"  Your  position  has  responsibilities  as  well  as  pleas- 
ures," pursued  the  doctor.  "  For  instance,  we  shall 
have  a  stern  fight  to  win  the  recognition  of  the  foreign 
powers.  The  assassination  of  poor  Karl, — a  brilliant 
idea  on  Herr  Trafford's  part,  and  a  proceeding  of 
which  I  thoroughly  approve, — will  take  a  little  swal- 
lowing by  the  Chanceries  of  Europe." 

"  Poor  Karl !  "  Gloria  murmured. 

"  Moreover,"  the  doctor  went  on,  ignoring  the  com- 
ment, "  the  mere  fact  of  coronation, — important  though 
it  may  be, — is  not  necessarily  a  guarantee  of  unop- 
posed sovereignty.  We  have  reports  from  the  north- 
east of  Grimland  that  there  is  considerable  dissatisfac- 
tion with  the  coup  d'etat  which  has  just  proved  fatal 
to  your  Majesty's  predecessor.  They  say  that  the 
district  of  Weissheim  is  in  something  very  like  open 
revolt." 

Gloria  laughed  mirthlessly. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  of  it,"  she  said.  "  What  is  the 
worth  to  me  of  the  royalty  of  men  who  change  their 
allegiance  as  readily  as  they  change  their  coats  ?  Karl 
was  a  man.  He  had  his  faults,  his  crimes,  if  report 


THE    FIRST    COUNCIL  191 

speaks  true ;  but  men  licked  his  hand  when  he  was  alive, 
and  I  honour  them  if  they  fight  for  his  memory  when 
he  is  dead." 

"  Bravo  !  "  cried  Trafford  enthusiastically,  and  heed- 
less of  the  black  looks  his  interjection  drew  from  Von 
Hiigelweiler  and  Dr.  Matti.  "  Bravo !  That's  the 
spirit  I  draw  my  sword  for.  I  liked  what  I  saw  of  Karl. 
He  seemed  to  me  a  gentleman,  and  a  good  sportsman. 
Had  I  not  heard  of  his  cruelty  to  the  late  Archbishop, 
I  don't  know  that  I  should  have  cared  to  take  a  hand 
against  him." 

"  The  story  of  his  cruelty  to  the  Archbishop  was 
a  lie,"  put  in  Father  Bernhardt.  "  I  ought  to  know," 
he  went  on,  in  answer  to  the  astonished  looks  of  his 
hearers,  "  for  I  invented  it  myself.  Karl  was  a  humane 
man  and  a  moral  man.  Years  ago  I  loved  him.  Af- 
terwards I  loved  his  wife, — and  that  made  a  differ- 
ence." 

Dr.  Matti  looked  deep  disgust.  He  was  a  family 
man  with  strong,  not  to  say  Puritan,  views  on  morality. 
He  knew — who  did  not? — that  Bernhardt  had  eloped 
some  years  ago  with  Karl's  consort,  but  he  had  al- 
ways imagined  the  ex-priest  to  have  been  actuated  by 
a  disinterested  desire  to  deliver  the  poor  woman  from 
a  brutal  and 'tyrannical  husband.  Bernhardt  read  the 
doctor's  expression,  and  laughed. 

"  The  devil  tempted  me," — he  went  on,  with  a  posi- 
tive delight  in  shocking  the  worthy  burgher, — "  and  I 
fell.  The  love  I  had  for  Karl  turned  to  hatred.  I 
fought  against  him, — I  lied  against  him, — I  swore  to 
effect  his  downfall,  and  I  effected  it ;  but  now  that  he  is 


192  GLORIA 

dead  I  wish  to  clear  his  memory.  Karl  was  never  guilty 
of  inhumanity.  He  might  be  stern  when  occasion  war- 
ranted. He  might  be  unscrupulous  in  his  methods 
of  suppressing  sedition ;  he  would  have  been  a  fool  had 
he  not  been  so;  but  he  never  stooped  to  torture.  Tell 
that  abroad,  my  friends.  Karl  was  a  clean  man,  a  just 
man,  and  if  I  compassed  his  ruin  it  was  because  that 
was  the  price  I  paid  to  Satan  for  the  glories  of  his 
fellowship." 

All  were  silent  at  these  words,  but  Gloria  put  her 
hands  before  her  eyes  and  shuddered.  Her  pallor  be- 
came, if  possible,  intensified.  She  appeared  tired  out, 
and  as  if  suffering  from  a  splitting  headache. 

"  It  seems  we  have  been  fighting  under  false  pre- 
tences," she  said  wearily. 

It  was  Von  Hiigelweiler  who  answered  her. 

"  Karl  is  dead,"  he  said.  "  I  sided  against  him,  not 
because  I  hated  him,  but  because  I  wished  to  serve  the 
Princessin  Gloria  von  Schattenberg.  Long  live  the 
Queen ! " 

"  Long  live  the  Queen ! "  echoed  Dr.  Matti  without 
enthusiasm.  "  If  Karl  was  a  good  man,  he  is  in  heaven. 
Requiescat  in  pace.  We  must  accept  facts,  and  our 
first  duty  is  to  pacify  the  country." 

"  That  means  an  expedition  to  Weissheim,"  put  in 
Father  Bernhardt.  "  The  district  is  in  a  ferment. 
However,  our  friends  Von  Hiigelweiler  and  Herr  Traf- 
ford,  with  a  few  regiments  of  sharp-shooters,  will  put 
that  right  in  a  few  days." 

"  More  bloodshed !  "  sighed  Gloria. 

"  The   authority  of  the  new  Government  must  be 


THE    FIRST    COUNCIL  193 

respected,"  declared  Dr.  Matti.  "  We  must  have  no 
false  sentimentality." 

Gloria  rose  from  her  seat  with  a  look  of  a  new- 
born resolution  on  her  ashen  face. 

"  There  must  be  np  more  fighting,"  she  said  im- 
periously. "  I  am  a  Schattenberg,  I  know,  and  come 
of  a  race  accustomed  to  hold  life  as  a  little  thing.  I 
plotted  against  Karl,  because  my  father  and  brother 
met  their  death  at  his  hands.  But  Karl  is  dead,  and  his 
death  is  a  horrible  and  ghastly  memory  to  me.  The 
men  of  Weissheim  are  my  subjects,  and  I  will  not  have 
their  blood  on  my  hands.  Our  Government  must  be 
respected,  you  say?  We  will  win  respect  by  mercy 
and  tolerance,  then,  not  by  the  cannon  and  the 
shambles ! " 

Dr.  Matti's  countenance  was  a  picture  of  con- 
temptuous irritation.  Bernhardt's  head  sank  on  his 
breast,  as  if  he  were  deep  in  thought.  The  silence 
was  broken  by  a  loud  rap  at  the  door.  Von  Hiigel- 
weiler  strode  across  the  room  and  opened  it. 

There  was  a  moment's  whispered  consultation. 

"  A  messenger  with  urgent  news,  your  Majesty,"  said 
Hiigelweiler  at  length. 

"  Admit  him !  " 

A  man  in  plain  clothes  entered.  Trafford  recog- 
nised him  as  one  of  the  waiters  of  the  Hotel  Concordia. 

"  Your  news,  Gottfried,  quick,"  said  Bernhardt. 
"  You  are  interrupting  the  Council." 

The  man  bowed  low  to  the  Queen. 

"  I  am  head  of  the  Intelligence  Department,  your 
Majesty,"  he  began,  "  and  I  have  just  received  news 


194  GLORIA 

of  such  import  that  I  felt  it  necessary  to  interrupt  your 
Majesty's  Council  in  order  to  impart  it." 

"  Proceed,"  said  Gloria  with  a  slight  inclination  of 
her  head. 

"Your  Majesty,  there  is  much  trouble  at  Weiss- 
heim.  The  burgherschaft  has  declared  against  your 
sovereignty.  The  troops  refuse  to  take  the  oath  of 
allegiance,  and  the  young  Prince  is  cheered  wherever 
seen." 

"  We  know  all  this,"  said  Bernhardt  in  some 
irritation. 

"  Snow  forts  are  being  erected  at  every  strategic 
point,"  the  man  went  on,  "  and  heavy  pieces  of 
ordnance  are  being  put  in  position." 

"  Naturally,"  said  Bernhardt.  "  We  did  not  im- 
agine they  would  conduct  civil  war  with  popguns." 

"  Is  that  all?  "  demanded  Von  Hiigelweiler. 

"  No,  excellency.  There  is  a  report, — a  strong  re- 
port,— that  the  King  is  not  dead ;  that  he  escaped  with 
General  Meyer  and  Herr  Saunders,  and  has  made  his 
way  to  the  Palace  of  the  Brunvarad  at  Weissheim. 
The  wires  are  cut,  and  the  railway  has  been  blown  up 
in  three  places,  including  the  great  viaduct  over  the 
Niederkessel  at  Eselbruck.  It  is  impossible  to  obtain 
direct  confirmation,  but  the  rumour  is  gaining  ground 
even  here  that  Karl  somehow  escaped  our  clutches  and 
fled  to  Weissheim." 

At  a  sign  from  Bernhardt  the  man  bowed  and 
withdrew. 

"  A  ridiculous  rumour,  as  we  have  reason  to  know," 
said  Dr.  Matti,  appealing  to  the  others. 


THE    FIRST    COUNCIL  195 

"  We  cannot  produce  his  corpse,"  said  Trafford. 

"  No,"  said  Bernhardt ;  "  that  was  an  oversight  on 
our  part.  After  consigning  Karl  to  the  embrace  of 
the  Iron  Maiden  we  left  his  body  to  his  friends.  We 
should  have  occupied  the  Neptunburg  there  and  then, 
and  drowned  old  Meyer  in  the  Palace  fountain.  As 
it  was,  our  consciences  got  the  better  of  us,  we  fled 
from  the  scene  of  our  handiwork  without  completing 
our  task." 

"  We  should  never  have  begun  it,"  cried  Gloria. 
**  I  shall  never  forget  the  moment  when  Karl  stepped 
forth  and  faced  the  shrieking  rabble.  The  man  was  a 
lion  among  wolves.  What  followed  will  haunt  me  to 
my  grave.  And  now  Father  Bernhardt  tells  us  that 
Karl  was  a  humane  man  and  a  moral  man,  and  that 
it  is  necessary  for  us  to  butcher  those  of  his  late  sub- 
jects who  are  true  to  his  memory." 

"  We  must  forget  the  past  and  look  to  the  future," 
said  Dr.  Matti  sternly.  "  To  display  weakness  now 
would  only  be  to  increase  the  sum  of  human  suffering. 
This  expedition  must  start  at  once." 

The  Queen  turned  in  despair  to  Bernhardt. 

"  You  have  heard  Gottfried's  report,"  said  the  ex- 
priest.  "  There  must  be  no  delay.  The  expedition 
must  start  at  once." 

"  The  expedition  must  start  at  once,"  echoed  Von 
Hiigelweiler. 

Gloria  turned  to  Trafford. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  that  gentleman  absent-mindedly. 
"  By  all  means  let  the  expedition  start  at  once.  I  will 
accompany  it." 


196  GLORIA 

The  Queen  rose  from  the  throne. 

"  The  expedition  shall  start  at  once,"  she  said  in 
tones  of  unutterable  bitterness.  "  I  command  that  it 
be  so.  Gentlemen,  I  leave  you,  thanking  you  for  your 
loyal  counsel.  This  is  the  day  of  my  life,  the  dreamed- 
of  day  on  which  I  call  myself,  *  Gloria,  Queen  of 
Grimland.' " 


CHAPTER  NINETEEN 

THE    CHAPEL   ROYAL, 

NERVY  TRAFFORD  left  the  Council  with  the  dawning- 
consciousness  that  he  was  not  a  very  wise  man.  There 
are  kings  and  kings,  he  reflected,  kings  to  serve,  honour 
and  obey,  and  kings  to  harass,  embarrass  and  decapi- 
tate ;  but  it  was  best  on  the  whole  to  leave  the  choice  of 
treatment  to  the  subjects  of  the  particular  monarch 
to  be  dealt  with.  He  had  sided  against  Karl  from  an 
innate  love  of  excitement  and  a  romantic  enthusiasm 
for  the  rebel  Princess.  He  had  saved  Karl  from  pre- 
mature death,  because  he  was  a  well-brought-up 
American  with  a  sneaking  respect  for  the  sixth  com- 
mandment. The  result  was,  that  the  revolution, — 
which  had  been  by  no  means  bloodless, — was  likely  to 
be  followed  by  an  aftermath  of  civil  war  infinitely  more 
sanguinary.  Had  he  not  interfered,  Karl  might  still 
have  been  on  the  throne.  Had  he  persisted  in  his  revo- 
lutionary policy,  logically  and  relentlessly,  Grimland 
might  have  found  peace  and  tranquillity  under  the  un- 
opposed banner  of  Gloria.  As  it  was,  Karl  was  evi- 
dently in  Weissheim,  and  the  good  Weissheimers, — 
according  to  Herr  Gottfried, — were  preparing  glacis 
and  grapeshot  for  those  who  did  not  see  eye  to  eye 
with  them  in  things  political. 

He  found  his  way  to  the  Rubens  room,  and  seated 
himself,  wondering  how  long  it  was  necessary  to  wait 

197 


198  GLORIA 

before  demanding  access  to  the  private  apartments. 
The  short  winter  day  was  well-nigh  done,  and  the 
great,  unlit  chamber  looked  vast  and  ghostly  in  the 
failing  light.  The  shadowed  corners,  the  rich  still- 
ness, touched  and  oppressed  his  imagination.  Great 
men  and  proud  women  had  passed  in  sumptuous 
pageantry  through  the  walls  of  that  noble  chamber; 
and  Trafford  felt  their  presence,  and  strove  to  exorcise 
them  with  the  fumes  of  a  cigarette.  But  the  impalpable 
dust  of  centuries  seemed  to  impregnate  the  air,  and  by- 
gone monarchs  looked  askance  at  him  from  their  dim 
gold  frames,  in  a  scornful  wonder  at  the  American 
interloper  who  sat  so  carelessly  in  the  seat  of  kings. 
He  rose,  impatient  of  their  glances,  and  walked  to  the 
window.  Snow  was  falling.  The  sun  that  had  graced 
and  greeted  the  new-crowned  Queen  had  sunk  beneath 
the  rugged  outline  of  the  encircling  mountains ;  the 
sky,  which  had  been  of  no  uncertain  blue,  was  a  nonde- 
script monotone  weeping  a  white  haze  of  crystalline 
tears.  His  thoughts  harked  back  to  the  ashen  face 
and  sad  eyes  of  the  new-crowned  Queen.  Why  had 
she  not  grasped  the  fact  that  Karl's  immurement  in  the 
Eisenmadchen  was  a  humane  act  of  rescue,  not  a  piece 
of  callous  cruelty?  She  herself  had  experienced  the 
same  hiding-place  under  the  same  innocuous  conditions, 
and  yet  it  did  not  seem  to  have  occurred  to  her  that  the 
spikes  might  still  be  reposing  at  the  bottom  of  his 
overcoat  pocket.  That  the  others  should  have  failed 
to  suspect  the  truth  was  only  natural.  That  they 
would  be  angry  on  discovering  it,  was  probable — but 
for  that  he  cared  not  one  jot. 


THE    CHAPEL    ROYAL  199 

What  troubled  his  awakening  conscience  was,  that 
good  men  and  true  must  go  down  before  peace  reigned 
again  in  the  troubled  monarchy  of  Grimland. 

After  a  few  more  minutes  of  such  meditation,  he 
made  his  way  through  the  Rubens-saal  in  the  direction 
of  the  private  apartments.  In  the  corridor  leading  to 
the  Queen's  chamber  stood  the  officer  on  guard,  and 
talking  to  him  was  no  less  a  personage  than  Von 
Hiigelweiler. 

"  My  orders  are  precise,"  the  former  was  saying. 
"  Her  Majesty  is  resting  and  will  see  no  one." 

"  But  have  the  goodness  at  least  to  send  in  my 
name,"  Von  Hiigelweiler  returned  pettishly. 

"  It  would  be  no  use,  Captain,"  retorted  the 
other.  "  The  Queen  is  resting  and  must  not  be  dis- 
turbed." 

Von  Hiigelweiler's  disappointment  showed  itself 
plainly  in  his  crestfallen  air. 

**  I  want  access  to  her  Majesty,"  he  said  doggedly. 
"  It  is  true  that  by  admitting  me  you  risk  offending 
the  Queen,  but  by  not  admitting  me  you  offend  me  for 
a  certainty." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  Captain,"  said  the  officer  in  a 
conciliatory  manner.  He  was  quite  a  young  man, 
and  he  was  rather  alarmed  at  having  to  defy  so  im- 
portant a  person  as  Von  Hiigelweiler  had  become. 
Still,  he  held  stoutly  to  his  position  in  the  centre  of  the 
corridor. 

"  You  may  be  sorrier  still,  if  you  persist,"  said  the 
Captain  darkly,  detecting,  as  he  fancied,  symptoms  of 
wavering  on  the  other's  part.  "  We  move  in  strange 


200  GLORIA 

times,  Lieutenant,  and  my  goodwill  is  better  worth 
having  than  my  enmity." 

At  this  juncture,  Trafford, — who  had  overheard  this 
conversation,  and  whose  approach  had  been  inaudible 
on  the  thick  carpet  of  the  Palace  corridor, — coughed 
affectedly,  and  advanced  with  admirable  swagger. 

"  I  wish  to  see  her  Majesty,"  he  said,  addressing 
the  lieutenant  on  guard,  and  completely  ignoring  Von 
Hugelweiler. 

It  was  the  latter,  however,  who  answered  him. 

"  The  Queen  is  resting,  and  will  see  no  one,"  he  said 
roughly. 

Trafford  paid  not  the  slightest  attention  to  the 
Captain's  words. 

"  My  name  is  Trafford,"  he  went  on,  to  the  officer. 

The  Lieutenant's  face  was  a  picture  of  puzzled  dis- 
may. His  orders  were  to  conduct  Trafford  to  the 
royal  apartments  as  soon  as  he  presented  himself.  To 
all  others  he  was  to  give  the  message  that  her  Majesty 
was  exceedingly  fatigued  and  would  on  no  account  see 
anyone.  After  a  moment's  embarrassed  indecision, — 
during  which  he  felt  Von  Hiigelweiler's  eyes  absolutely 
scorching  him, — he  bade  Trafford  follow,  and  turning 
his  back  on  the  furious  Captain,  led  the  way  down  the 
long  corridor.  Arriving  at  a  doorway  concealed  by  a 
heavy  curtain,  he  pushed  open  a  massive  oak  portal 
and  signalled  Trafford  to  enter. 

The  chamber  in  which  the  latter  now  found  himself 
was  lofty,  smelling  of  incense,  and  lit  by  lamps  hanging 
from  a  frescoed  ceiling.  At  the  far  end  was  an  altar 
garnished  with  many  candles  and  a  silver  crucifix. 


THE    CHAPEL    ROYAL  201 

This  undoubtedly  was  the  private  chapel  of  the 
Neptunburg. 

"  We  are  awaiting  you,"  said  the  quiet  voice  of 
Gloria. 

Trafford  advanced  towards  the  new  Queen,  who  was 
standing  before  the  steps  of  the  altar  in  the  company 
of  a  priest.  The  chapel  was  dark,  for  the  stained-^ 
glass  windows  shut  out  most  of  the  remaining  lighty 
and  the  hanging  lamps  were  little  more  than  points  of 
ruby  flame.  And  yet  he  could  see  that  Gloria's  face 
was  still  of  an  even  pallor,  and  that  her  eyes  were  red 
from  recent  tears. 

"  I  am  a  woman  of  my  word,  you  see,"  she  went  on 
in  dull  tones.  "  I  promised  to  marry  you  under  certain 
conditions,  and,  those  conditions  being  fulfilled,  I 
waste  no  time." 

"  You  are  carrying  out  the  letter  of  the  contract,** 
returned  Trafford,  "  but  are  you  observing  the  spirit  ? 
I  did  not  bargain  for  a  tearful  bride." 

"  The  tears  are  dried  and  gone." 

"  But  not  the  cause  that  made  them  flow.  Your 
wept  because  you  are  a  woman,  and  the  woman  who/ 
regards  even  the  formula  of  marriage  as  a  little  matter 
has  yet  to  see  the  light  of  day.  And  you  wept  be- 
cause you  are  not  sure  which  thing  conscience  com- 
mands— the  violation  of  a  contract  or  the  taking  of 
false  vows." 

"  You  are  strangely  wise  to-day,"  she  said  with  a? 
faint  smile.  "  I  did  not  know  such  intuition  lurked 
in  that  wild  brain  of  yours." 

"  I  am  right,  then?  " 


202  GLORIA 

"  I  cannot  say  " — she  hesitated.  "  Yes,  the  mar- 
riage vow  is  a  serious  thing,  and  this  wedding, — as  I 
warned  you, — can  be  no  more  than  a  solemn  mockery. 
I  am  Queen  of  Grimland.  You  are  a  brave  man 
and  a  gentleman — but  you  are  not  a  prince  of  blood 
royal." 

"  The  Traffords  are  not  people  of  particularly 
humble  origin,"  he  retorted  drily. 

"  Nor  would  it  affect  me  if  they  were.  But  the 
State  would  never  sanction  my  marriage  with  a  com- 
moner." 

"  Then  is  it  worth  while  going  through  the 
mockery  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  I  have  asked  myself  that  question,  and  the  answer 
is  that  you  find  me  here.  My  word  is  pledged." 

"  Your  word,  but  not  your  heart." 

"  Ah,  but  I  once  told  you  that  I  had  no  heart." 

"  Then  you  uttered  a  falsehood,"  he  insisted.  "  Your 
heart, — whose  existence  you  deny, — bled  at  the  thought 
of  Karl's  suffering.  Your  heart,  which  was  disposed 
to  entertain  some  kindly  emotion  for  me,  has  cooled 
towards  me  because  I  compassed  Karl's  cruel  de- 
mise." 

"  Go  on,  wise  man !  " 

"  I  will  not  ask  you  if  I  am  right,"  pursued  Traf- 
ford,  "  for  I  read  acquiescence  in  those  tear-spoiled 
eyes.  But  I  will  say  one  thing  more:  as  Queen  of 
Grimland  your  marriage  to  me  will  be  null  and  void. 
What  if  you  are  deposed  from  your  sovereignty,  and 
became  again  Gloria  von  Schattenberg,  the  exile?  " 

"  That  will  not  occur  just  yet,"  she  replied. 


THE    CHAPEL   ROYAL  203 

"  I  am  not  so  certain,"  he  mused.  "  What  if  those 
rumours  mentioned  by  Gottfried  were  true  in  sub- 
stance and  in  fact  ?  What  if  Karl  really  escaped  with 
General  Meyer  and  Saunders  and  others  to  Weiss- 
helm?  What  if  Grimland's  King  is  still  in  his  own 
country,  alive,  alert,  surrounded  by  sage  counsel  and 
loyal  hearts  ?  Is  your  position  then  so  very  sure  ?  " 

"  But  Karl  was  put  into  the  Eisenmadchen,"  she  pro- 
tested wonderingly. 

"  So  were  you,"  was  Trafford's  retort. 

"  I — yes.  But  you  had  unscrewed  all  the  spikes. 
The  Maiden  was  as  harmless  as  an  unfanged  snake." 

"  I  put  those  spikes  in  my  overcoat  pocket,"  said 
Trafford  slowly.  "  They  are  still — in  my  overcoat 
pocket." 

For  a  dazed  moment  Gloria  stood  staring  at  him. 
Then  she  reeled — literally — grasping  at  the  altar  rails 
for  support. 

"  You  put  him  into  the  Iron  Maiden — to  save  his 
life  ?  "  she  gasped. 

"  That  was  my  rough  idea.  You  see,  I  am  an 
American,  and  I  hate  killing  things — especially  brave 
things.  There  are  plenty  of  men  I  would  kill  in  the 
heat  of  battle — one  or  two,  perhaps,  whom  I  would 
kill  without  much  heat,  but  Karl, — whatever  his  deeds 
or  misdeeds, — was  playing  the  man  that  night  in  the 
Palace  yard,  and  I  would  sooner  have  cut  off  my  right 
hand  then  have  done  him  an  injury.  Forgive  me,  your 
Majesty,  for  I  served  you  badly.  Providence,  which 
gave  me  a  fair  share  of  muscle  and  brute  courage, 
was  stinting  to  me  in  the  matter  of  logic.  I  should 


204  GLORIA 

have  been  logical  and  replaced  the  spikes  in  the  Eisen- 
madchen" 

"Herr  Trafford!" 

A  hand  was  laid  on  Traff ord's  arm,  and  in  the  scanty 
light  of  the  shadowy  chapel  the  American  found  him- 
self looking  into  eyes  bright  with  tears,  but  tears  not 
of  sorrow  or  vexation,  but  of  happiness  and  vast  relief. 

"  Oh,  what  a  weight  you  have  taken  from  off  my 
heart — it  was  heavier  than  I  could  bear,"  she  mur- 
mured. "  I  felt  like  a  murderess,  a  guilty  creature 
who  had  risen  through  blood  to  the  summit  of  her  base 
ambitions." 

"  Then  I  am  forgiven  ?  " 

"  There  is  nothing  to  forgive.  You  have  helped  me 
and  served  me  with  your  splendid  impetuosity  and  your 
fearless  resource.  A  Grimlander  would  have  slain 
Karl,  and  crowned  his  service  with  a  deed  of  shame. 
You  were  illogical — and  I — I  almost  love  you  for  your 
noble  lack  of  logic." 

"You  almost  love  me?"  he  asked  in  a  trance. 

"  At  least  as  much  as  I  have  ever  loved " 

She  broke  off  suddenly,  and  smiling  upon  him  one 
of  her  rarest  smiles,  she  added :  "  Yes,  George  Traf- 
ford, I  will  marry  you,  and  if  the  Queen  of  Grimland 
cannot  wed  an  American,  then  I  will  no  longer  be  Queen 
of  Grimland." 

Trafford  gazed  into  the  pale,  brave  face  as  he  had 
never  gazed  at  any  living  thing.  His  breath  caught 
with  a  short  gasp.  A  strange  fire  had  sprung  to  quiv- 
ering life  in  his  bosom;  a  wild  march  was  pealing  in 
his  ravished  ears.  His  feet  were  no  longer  on  the 


THE    CHAPEL   ROYAL  205 

chequered  marble  pavement  of  the  Chapel  Royal,  but 
somewhere  in  the  fine  regions  of  rolling  planets  and 
shimmering  nebulae.  It  was  no  mere  human  being 
who  bent  over  that  sweet  young  face  and  kissed  the 
warm  tears  from  the  drooping  eyelids  as  he  breathed 
the  one  word  "  Gloria "  in  an  echo  of  long-drawn 
sound,  but  a  demi-god,  an  heroic  anachronism  with 
the  passions  of  Phoebus  in  his  kindling  soul. 

"  I  thought  love  was  worship,"  he  said,  as  he 
strained  the  slim  form  to  him.  "  So  it  is,  and  some- 
thing more — something  infinitely  and  deliciously 
more." 

"  We  are  in  church,"  she  remonstrated,  gently  dis- 
engaging herself,  "  and  not  alone." 

But  again  he  kissed  her,  and  this  time  gently  on  the 
brow. 

"  I  was  forgetting  all  things  save  one,"  he  said, 
"  and  that  is  that  you  love  me." 

"  Almost  love  you,"  she  corrected,  with  a  sigh. 

"  At  least  as  much  as  you  loved  the  others,"  he 
affirmed. 

"  And  that  contents  you  ?  "  she  demanded,  raising 
her  eyebrows  in  well-feigned  astonishment. 

Her   question   puzzled  him. 

"  It  ought  not  to,  of  course,"  he  said  with  wrinkled 
brow.  "  I  ought  to  want  all  or  nothing.  But  I  would 
be  content  if  it  were  even  less  you  gave,  for  in  the  dim 
light  of  this  ancient  chamber  I  seem  to  see  the  work- 
ings of  Fate." 

"  Then  you  are  willing  on  such  a  basis  to  go  on  with 
the  ceremony?  " 


206  GLORIA 

"  If  you  are  content  to  do  so,"  he  returned  gravely, 
"  knowing  that  Karl  is  alive  and  may  prevail,  and  that 
in  that  event  no  Parliament  will  trouble  to  undo  what 
the  good  priest  does  this  afternoon." 

Gloria  looked  him  frankly  in  the  face. 

"  I,  too,  believe  in  Fate,"  she  said  softly,  after  a 
pause;"  and  then,  slipping  her  arm  into  his,  "Father 
Ambrose,  you  have  been  summoned  here  for  a  purpose. 
Fulfil  that  purpose." 


CHAPTER   TWENTY 

BERNHARDT     DISTURBED 

WHILE  the  woman  whom  he  had  helped  to  a  throne 
was  being  secretly  married  to  George  Trafford,  Father 
Bernhardt  was  sitting  alone  in  his  private  apartments 
in  the  Neptunburg.  The  room  he  had  chosen  for  his 
use  was  a  small  chamber  on  the  second  floor,  overlook- 
ing the  courtyard.  The  blinds  were  drawn,  the 
electric  light  was  burning,  and  the  ex-priest  was  seated 
in  a  comfortable  arm-chair  reading  the  poems  of  Paul 
Verlaine.  At  his  side  were  a  wine-glass  and  a  big 
carafe  containing  a  pale  green  viscous  fluid.  He 
seemed  to  be  enjoying  his  relaxation,  for  a  smile  con- 
stantly flitted  across  his  face,  and  as  some  mordant  line 
appealed  more  especially  to  his  grim  humour  he 
would  repeat  it  several  times  out  loud  in  manifest 
appreciation.  From  time  to  time  he  sipped  the  fluid 
at  his  elbow,  and  it  was  remarkable  that  each  time  he 
did  so  he  cast  a  quick  look  behind  him  as  if  fully  ex- 
pecting to  see  someone. 

A  rap  at  the  door  brought  a  slight  frown  to  his 
brow,  and  the  knock  had  to  be  repeated  before  he 
gave  the  necessary  permission  to  enter.  The  intruder 
was  Von  Hiigelweiler. 

"  Well,  what  is  it,  Captain  ?  "  asked  Bernhardt  im- 
patiently. 

Von  Hiigelweiler's  glance  took  in  the  nature  of  the 
207 


1208  GLORIA 

other  man's  diversion,  and  a  suspicion  of  contempt 
showed  itself  in  his  curling  lip. 

"  I  have  news,  sir,"  he  said. 

"Out  with  it!" 

*'  Karl  is  alive ! " 

*'  So  Gottfried  said.  The  Iron  Maiden  seems  to 
Jiave  grown  humane  in  her  old  age." 

cHiigelweiler  studied  the  man  whose  influence  was 
then  paramount  in  Weidenbruck,  and  his  contempt 
grew.  In  common  with  others,  he  had  been  wont  to 
fear  Bernhardt.  The  burning  eyes,  the  quick,  im- 
perious brain,  the  general  air  of  reckless  strength  were 
things  that  impressed  the  well-born  soldier,  as  they 
Impressed  the  low-born  mob.  But  Bernhardt  sipping 
absinthe  was  a  different  person  from  the  fire-brand 
of  the  revolution,  and  Hiigelweiler  realised  that  the 
lethargic  sensualist  of  the  arm-chair  needed  strong 
words  to  rouse  him. 

"  The  Iron  Maiden  has  not  grown  humane,"  he 
said,  "  but  there  is  a  traitor  in  our  midst." 

Bernhardt  sipped  pensively. 

*'  How  very  interesting ! "  he  said. 

"  Very !  "  echoed  Hiigelweiler  scornfully.  c<  Before 
ICarl  was  put  into  the  Eisenmadchen  someone  had 
removed  the  spikes.  The  pretended  execution  was 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  scheme  to  save  the  King's 
life." 

"  A  most  ingenious  scheme." 

Von  Hiigelweiler  banged  his  fist  on  the  table. 

"  That  is  one  piece  of  news ! "  he  cried  irritably, 
does  not  seem  to  move  you  very  deeply;  perhaps 


209 

my  second  item  will  affect  you  more.  The  Queen  has 
just  gone  through  the  ceremony  of  marriage  with 
Traff ord  the  American !  " 

Again  Bernhardt  raised  his  glass. 

"  I  drink  to  the  happy  pair,"  he  said  blandly. 

Hiigelweiler   almost  screamed!  with  vexation. 

"  It  is  scandalous ! "  he  protested,  almost  with  tears 
in  his  eyes.  "  The  thing  must  be  annulled.  The  Queen 
of  Grimland  must  not  wed  a  commoner,  a  foreign 
adventurer,  a  man  who  at  a  crisis  turns  traitor  and 
saves  the  dethroned  King's  life." 

A  spark  of  interest  glinted  into  the  ex-priest's  eye. 

"  By  the  way,"  he  asked,  "  how  did  you  find  all  this 
out?  " 

The  question  let  loose  a  fresh  flood  of  indignation 
from  the  Captain.  In  tones  of  choking  wrath  he  told 
how  he  had  been  forbidden  the  royal  presence,  and  how 
Trafford  had  been  accorded  instant  admission. 

"  That  was  too  much  for  a  man  of  my  kidney,"  he 
went  on.  "  I  brushed  aside  the  young  fool  who  was 
doing  duty  on  guard,  and  I  followed  this  American 
pig  down  the  corridor.  I  found  myself  in  the  chapel, 
and  I  hid  myself  in  the  gloom  behind  a  pew.  Then 
I  overheard  things — pretty  things,  pretty  speeches, 
tales  of  the  American's  mercy,  how  he  had  saved  the 
King's  life  because  he  disliked  killing  a  brave  man. 
Then  these  two, — the  Queen  of  Grimland  and  the  trai- 
tor who  should  have  been  immured  in  the  Strafeburg, — 
kissed  each  other  and  were  made  man  and  wife  by  a 
damned  old  fool  in  a  cassock." 

"  Always  speak  respectfully  of  the  Church,  my  son," 


210  GLORIA 

said  Bernhardt  with  exasperating  mockery.  "  I  was, 
myself,  one  of  its  most  shining  ornaments." 

"  Can  nothing  rouse  you  to  the  seriousness  of  the 
situation  ?  "  demanded  the  Captain  in  despair. 

Again  Bernhardt  sipped.  Then  he  leaned  back, 
and  a  slow  smile  spread  over  his  face. 

"  You  don't  drink  absinthe,  do  you,  Captain  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  the  other  with  an  expression  of  dis- 
gust. 

"  It  is  a  strange  fluid,"  went  on  Bernhardt  thought- 
fully. "  Sometimes  it  clears  the  brain,  so  that  one 
sees  with  extraordinary  distinctness.  But  sometimes 
it  obfuscates  the.  reasoning  powers,  so  that  one  can- 
not distinguish  right  from  wrong.  For  instance,  at 
the  present  moment,  Herr  Trafford's  action  appears 
to  me  not  a  wicked,  but  a  positively  virtuous  one.  He 
saved  a  man  from  a  cruel  death  and  delivers  him  to 
freedom  instead  of  torture." 

"  But  the  man  was  Karl ! "  expostulated  Von  Hiigel- 
weiler. 

"  I  loved  Karl,"  returned  Bernhardt,  unmoved,  "  I 
loved  and  hated  him.  You, — not  being  an  absintheur, 
— cannot  understand  the  curious  mental  pose  that  loves 
and  hates  the  same  being  at  the  same  time.  Also  I 
love  Herr  Trafford.  He  got  me  out  of  the  Strafe- 
burg." 

Von  Hiigelweiler  made  a  gesture  of  despair.  He 
felt  he  was  talking  to  a  madman,  one  on  whom  sense 
and  argument  were  useless  and  unavailing. 

"  But  the  marriage ! "  he  said,  raising  his  voice  un- 
consciously to  a  shout  in  the  desperate  effort  to  drive 


BERNHARDT    DISTURBED  211 

home  his  point.  "  The  marriage  must  be  cancelled ! 
When  the  truth  is  known  that  Trafford  helped  Karl 
to  escape  he  will  become  the  most  hated  man  in  Weiden- 
bruck.  The  Queen  must  never  unite  her  fortunes  with 
such  a  creature." 

Bernhardt  gaped,  as  if  the  matter  had  begun  to 
bore  him. 

"  Then  the  truth  must  not  be  known,"  he  said,  be- 
tween his  yawns. 

"  But  it  shall  be  known ! "  cried  the  soldier  angrily. 
"  I  shall  proclaim  it  myself  from  the  housetops.  The 
mad  American  must  be  whipped  out  of  the  country." 

"  Captain  von  Hiigelweiler,"  said  the  ex-priest 
solemnly,  "just  now  I  was  enjoying  two  things:  some 
deliciously  bitter  poetry  and  some  deliciously  bitter 
liquid.  At  the  present  moment  I  am  incapacitated  by 
your  disturbing  presence  from  enjoying  either.  Do  I 
make  myself  plain?  " 

Von  Hiigelweiler  turned  to  go  with  a  stifled  oath. 

"  A  fine  time  for  dissipation ! "  he  said,  as  a  parting 
shaft.  "  The  fortunes  of  the  country  are  at  stake, 
and  Bernhardt,  Father  Bernhardt,  the  people's  leader, 
the  man  of  the  hour,  swills  absinthe  and  absorbs  the 
pernicious  writings  of  a  decadent  poetaster." 

In  a  flash  the  ex-priest  was  on  his  feet,  with  blazing 
eyes  and  an  air  of  almost  terrible  menace.  Von  Hiigel- 
weiler thought  he  had  been  talking  to  a  sodden 
drunkard.  He  found  himself  confronted  by  the  em- 
bodiment of  masterful  and  savage  energy. 

"  You  fool ! "  cried  Bernhardt  in  tones  of  withering 
contempt.  "  May  not  a  man  rest?  May  not  a  strange 


GLORIA 

man  rest  In  a  strange  way?  I  do  the  work  of  a  hun- 
dred— must  not  the  brain  be  fed  and  the  nerves  braced 
to  meet  the  strain?  " 

The  Captain  shrugged  his  shoulders  weakly. 
Despite  his  own  strong  feelings,  the  other's  imperious- 
ness  cowed  him. 

"  Go ! "  continued  Bernhardt,  pointing  to  the  door. 
*'  Go,  and  hold  your  peace !  Tell  nobody  this  tale  of 
Karl's  escape  and  who  contrived  it.  Tell  no  one  this 
tale  of  the  secret  marriage  in  the  Chapel  Royal.  I 
forbid  you  to  speak.  The  nation's  destinies  are  in  my 
keeping,  not  yours." 

Von  Hiigelweiler  went  to  the  door,  smarting  under 
the  lash  of  the  tongue. 

"  Has  the  American  bewitched  you,  as  he  has  be- 
witched Gloria  von  Schattenberg  ?  "  he  asked,  summon- 
ing up  a  spark  of  courage  before  quitting  the  room. 

"  Aye,"  retorted  Bernhardt,  "  he  has  certain  very 
fascinating  qualities.  He  is  a  man,  Von  Hiigelweiler. 
Pray  to  your  God,  if  you  believe  in  Him,  to  make  you 
one." 

And  with  an  oath  on  his  lips,  and  wrath  and  rebellion 
in  his  heart,  Von  Hiigelweiler  flung  himself  from  the 
ex-priest's  chamber. 


CHAPTER   TWENTY-ONE 

DREAMS 

THE  following  morning  George  Trafford  awoke  from 
sweet  dreams  to  the  pleasant  consciousness  of  hot  coffee 
and  crisp  rolls.  He  was  still  occupying  apartments 
in  the  Hotel  Concordia,  and  it  was  a  waiter  in  that 
excellent  establishment  who  roused  him  from  the  glories 
of  slumberland  at  the  hour  of  8.30. 

"  Good-morning,  Rudolf,"  said  Traffoi<d,  opening 
a  reluctant  eye.  "  I  trust  you  have  not  forgotten  my 
honey  this  morning." 

"  I  have  brought  the  honey,  your  Excellency ;  also  a 
letter."  TrafFord  glanced  at  the  handwriting  on  the 
envelope. 

"  Sweeter  also  than  the  honey  and  the  honeycomb," 
he  murmured.  "  A  letter  from  dreamland,  Rudolf ! 
Tell  me,  Rudolf,  do  waiters  dream?  " 

The  man  laughed. 

'*  Not  often,  Excellency.  They  are  too  busy  by 
day.  Once  I  dreamed  that  I  was  appointed  headwaiter 
at  the  Concordia." 

"Ah!  you  are  ambitious,  Rudolf.  My  dreams  are 
less  exalted.  I  only  dreamed  that  a  certain  gnadiges 
frdulein  did  more  than  *  almost '  love  me ;  that  she  even 
cared  for  me  *  more  than  the  others.'  It  was  not  a 
bad  dream,  Rudolf,"  he  added,  casting  his  eyes  over  the 
missive,  "  and  the  letter  is  not  a  bad  awakening." 

213 


214-  GLORIA 

"  You  have  read  it,  Excellency  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  short  and  sweet.  '  Meet  me  at  the  con- 
fectioner's at  the  corner  of  the  Konlgstrasse  and  the 
Ettzabethstrasse  at  eleven.''  That  is  all,  but  the  imagi- 
nation riots  at  the  choice  of  rendezvous.  A  sensuous 
woman  would  have  chosen  a  restaurant,  an  extrava- 
gant one  a  milliner's.  Only  a  sweet  one  could  have 
thought  of  a  pastrycook's." 

"  I  wish  your  Excellency  joy." 

"  Thank  you,  Rudolf ;  my  small  change  is  reposing 
on  the  edge  of  the  mantelpiece ;  kindly  select  a  five- 
krone  piece  and  drink  to  my  good  fortune." 

At  eleven  o'clock  Trafford  was  waiting  outside  a 
big  corner  shop,  whose  ample  windows  revealed  an 
alluring  wealth  of  edible  magnificence.  Hardly  had 
the  church  clock  finished  striking  when  a  young  woman 
drew  near.  The  combination  of  blue  veil  a.nd  Russian 
sables  was  one  Trafford  had  seen  before,  and  being  in 
uniform  he  saluted. 

"  Come  inside,"  said  Gloria. 

Trafford  followed  obediently. 

"  It's  so  like  you  to  meet  me  in  a  place  of  this  kind," 
he  said. 

"  We  must  meet  somewhere,"  she  returned,  and  there 
was  a  half-mischievous  glint  in  the  eyes  that  looked 
back  into  his  eyes  as  she  added : — "  after  what  hap- 
pened yesterday.  It's  no  good  meeting  at  the  Neptun- 
burg — a  palace  has  all  the  luxuries  of  an  ideal  home, 
except  privacy.  This  is  one  of  the  places  where  I  was 
known  in  my  days  of  exile,  and  they  will  serve  us  choco- 
late and  eclairs  in  a  private  room." 


DREAMS  215 

"  Do  you  know  I  dreamed  of  you  last  night,"  began 
Trafford,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone  in  a  cosy  little 
room  at  the  back. 

"  Naturally,"  she  laughed. 

"  And  in  my  dream  you  were  very  kind." 

"  Again,   naturally." 

"  I  mean,"  said  Trafford  tentatively,  "  you  loved 
me  '  more  than  the  others.' ' 

"You  are  most  diverting,"  she  said,  smiling. 

Trafford  winced. 

"  You  are  not  taking  me  very  seriously?"  he  asked. 

"  How  can  I  take  anything  very  seriously?  If  I  did, 
I  should  go  mad.  I  am  a  Queen,  and  Queens  must 
marry.  Custom  compels.  As  an  exile  I  had  no  diffi- 
culty in  maintaining  my  spinsterhood.  Now,  it  is  dif- 
ferent. If  I  do  not  marry  you — marry  you,  mind,  not 
merely  go  through  a  marriage  form  with  you — I  shall 
be  wedded  to  some  young  German  or  Austrian  Prince- 
ling, whose  standard  of  manhood  is  measured  by  the 
number  of  beer  seidles  he  can  empty  in  an  evening." 

"  I  am  flattered.  And  now  for  a  few  practical  con- 
siderations. Supposing  you  marry  me — and  like  you, 
I  am  using  the  word  in  its  fullest  sense — what  will  be 
the  result?  What  will  the  public  say?  " 

"  The  public  will  say  little,  but  it  will  do  a  good 
deal,"  said  Gloria  grimly.  "  It  is  true  we  are  moving 
in  a  time  of  great  changes ;  it  is  true  that  for  the 
moment  you  are  a  very  popular  person.  But  it  is  also 
true  that  I  am  a  Queen  and  you  a  commoner,  and  Grim- 
landers  like  their  Royalty  undiluted.  If  we  proclaimed 
ourselves  man  and  wife  we  should  be  wise  to  board  the 


216  GLORIA 

Orient  express  at  Gleis,  and  steam  westward  to  Dsten'd 
or  eastward  to  Constantinople." 

"  And  you  would  really — really  object  to  that 
course  ?  "  asked  Trafford  a  little  sadly.  "  Yesterday 
afternoon  you  said,  'If  the  Queen  of  Grimland  may 
not  wed  an  American  I  will  no  longer  be  Queen  of  Grim- 
land.5  " 

"  Ah,  but  I  spoke  in  a  moment  of  enthusiasm,"  de- 
clared Gloria  unblushingly.  "  I  had  been  oppressed  by 
the  nightmare  of  Karl's  supposed  assassination.  The 
fact  that  he  had  not  really  been  killed,  that  it  was  your 
ready  wit  that  saved  him  from  a  cruel  end,  warmed 
my  heart  wonderfully  towards  you.  But  if  you  had 
your  dream  last  night,  so  had  I.  Mine  was  less  sen- 
timental but  equally  pleasant.  In  it  I  saw  myself 
Queen  of  Grimland,  Queen  of  a  whole  country,  with 
no  district  in  revolt  against  me.  Karl  had  been  de- 
feated, captured,  and  exiled.  I  was  the  reigning  sov- 
ereign of  a  loyal  and  loving  people." 

Trafford  nodded  gravely. 

"  That  is  the  dream  of  a  Schattenberg,"  he  said. 
"  It  is  much  the  same  dream  that  your  father  dreamed 
before  he  fell  into  the  great  sleep  where  there  are  no 
dreams.  But  it  is  not  the  dream  of  the  woman  I  kissed 
yesterday  afternoon  in  the  Chapel  Royal  of  the  Nep- 
tunburg." 

Gloria's  eyes  fell  before  his  steadfast  gaze.  Her 
face  softened;  it  saddened  under  a  wave  of  emotion — 
an  emotion,  the  instant  expression  of  which,  though 
easily  attributable  to  her  actress- temperament,  was 
nevertheless  based  on  something  far  deeper. 


DREAMS 

"  I  wonder  if  I  am  a  hard  woman,"  she  began,  still 
looking  down.  "  Years  of  exile,  of  earning  one's  living 
on  the  variety  stage,  striving — surely  these  are  not 
softening  influences."  She  paused  for  him  to  add  some 
sympathetic  word.  Whether  he  intended  to  do  so  or 
not,  he  forgot  it  on  meeting  the  eyes  that  now  were 
looking  him  through  and  through,  as  she  continued: 
"  But  I  do  not  unsay  what  I  said  yesterday !  I  really 
like  you,  immensely — and  perhaps  I  almost  love 

you." 

Trafford  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it  rapturously; 
she  almost  snatched  it  away,  and  there  was  a  ring  of 
steel  in  the  tones  that  now  declared: 

"  But  I  have  tasted  power,  and  now  that  the  horror 
of  Karl's  death  is  no  longer  on  my  conscience,  I  wish 
to  be  the  unopposed  ruler  of  my  country." 

"  Even  though  the  process  of  establishing  your  rule 
costs  the  lives  of  brave  men  ?  " 

Again  she  dropped  her  eyes — was  silenced.  She 
sipped  her  chocolate.  When  she  spoke,  it  was  quietly; 
and  with  absolute  conviction. 

"  If  I  had  known  what  Father  Bernhardt  told  us, 
that  Karl  was  really  a  humane  man  and  was  abso- 
lutely innocent  of  the  Archbishop's  death,  I  don't  be- 
lieve I  should  have  headed  a  rebellion  against  him.  But 
— rightly  or  wrongly — the  rebellion  has  succeeded  and 
the  seat  of  government  is  mine.  To  falter  now  would 
be  to  cause  more  misery  and  bloodshed  than  to  go  on. 
The  people  have  declared  against  Karl,  and  Karl  they 
will  not  have  at  any  price.  If  I  were  to  abdicate,  some 
other  adventurer  would  take  my  place.  To  withdraw 


218  GLORIA 

myself  from  Grimland  now  would  be  to  leave  my  friends 
to  the  certain  reprisals  of  their  enemies." 

"  Your  argument  is  flawless,"  acknowledged  Traf- 
ford.  "  I  am  de  trop.  Ambition,  to  say  nothing  of 
humanity,  leaves  you  but  one  course.  Neither  do  I 
complain — though  I  shall  return  a  disappointed  man. 
You  are  not  heartless,  far  from  it,  for  yesterday  in 
a  moment  of  golden  light  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a 
great  splendour,  the  gorgeous  harmonies  of  a  woman's 
heart.  The  vision  has  faded,  and  again  I  say  I  do  not 
complain.  On  the  contrary,  I  thank  Providence  for  the 
vision  of  what  might  have  been." 

A  more  prolonged  silence  followed  these  words. 
Trafford  busied  himself  with  his  eclair,  while  his  com- 
panion continued  to  stir  her  chocolate,  till  a  veritable 
whirlpool  formed  in  its  opaque  depths.  At  last  she 
looked  up. 

"  Of  course,  I'm  not  heartless,"  she  said, — and  she 
smiled  as  a  coquette  might  smile  on  being  told  that 
her  flirtations  were  dangerous, — "  and  of  course,  I  like 
you  very  much,  only  you  miss  the  whole  gist  of  my 
argument.  If  we  announce  our  marriage  now  we  shall 
be  drummed  out  of  the  country.  That  might  suit 
you,  but  it  doesn't  harmonise  with  the  ideals  that  have 
been  instilled  into  me  from  my  earliest  years.  If  you 
accompany  me  in  this  projected  expedition  to  Weiss- 
heim, — not  as  my  husband,  but  as  my  officer, — if  you 
exert  your  skill  and  valour  on  my  behalf  and  help  to 
capture  Karl  and  win  me  back  my  old  home — the 
Marienkastel — there  is  no  knowing  what  the  enthu- 
siasm of  the  Grimlander  would  not  do  for  you.  If  we 


DREAMS  219 

return  as  conquerers,  what  more  fitting  crown  to  our 
pageant  than  the  union  of  the  vindicated  Queen  and 
her  triumphant  General?" 

Trafford  gazed  at  the  mantled  cheek  and  the  light 
of  expectancy  that  shone  in  her  eyes  now.  Certain 
words  of  Saunders'  came  back,  ringing  in  his  ears: 
"  When  you  really  fall  in  love  you  will  refuse  to  take 
'  No  '  for  an  answer.  In  the  words  of  the  pre-historic 
doggerel,  you  will  '  try,  try  again.'  ' 

"  I  see,"  he  said,  "  I  have  done  something,  but  I 
have  not  done  enough.  I  will  accompay  you  to  Weiss- 
heim — a  unit  of  your  force — and  I  will  do  my  best 
to  serve  your  cause.  What  has  passed  between  us  is 
nothing,  must  make  no  difference  in  our  relations,  is 
merely  the  burlesque  conclusion  of  a  burlesque  com- 
pact. I  thought  I  saw  the  working  of  Fate  in  the  in- 
censed gloom  of  the  Chapel  Royal.  The  next  few 
weeks  will  prove  me  an  idle  visionary  or  a  true  seer." 
He  paused.  "  Which  do  you  wish  me  to  prove?  " 

She  rose  to  her  feet,  opened  her  sable  cloak,  and  dis- 
engaged a  pearl  brooch  from  her  neck.  Bending  over 
him  so  that  her  breath  swept  his  cheek,  she  fastened 
the  trinket  to  the  lapel  of  his  green  tunic,  and  finished 
his  subjugation  with  a  long  look  into  his  eyes. 

"  A  true  seer,"  she  answered. 


CHAPTER  TWENTY-TWO 

THE    WAB    ON    THE    WINE-SHOP 

OUTSIDE  the  confectioner's  Gloria  let  down  her  veil 
again,  and  turned  her  steps  towards  the  Neptunburg. 
Trafford,  at  her  request,  took  the  opposite  direc- 
tion. His  habitually  fierce  features  wore  a  grimmer 
look  than  ever, — for  his  brows  were  knit  and  his  teeth 
set, — and  there  was  a  dangerous  gleam  in  his  grey 
eyes.  He  was  the  prey  to  a  host  of  indefinable  emo- 
tions, that  worked  his  turbulent  spirit  to  its  most 
aggressive  mood.  Disappointment,  a  tinge  of  bitter- 
ness, coupled  with  a  wild  sense  of  intoxication, — caused 
by  the  Princess's  last  relenting  act  of  grace, — had 
strung  his  fine  nervous  system  to  a  point  when  it  de- 
manded violent  action  as  the  only  possible  relief.  Had 
he  been  at  Harvard  he  would  have  kindled  a  bonfire; 
had  Karl  been  within  a  reasonable  radius  of  his  activity 
he  would  have  headed  a  cutting-out  expedition  to  cap- 
ture that  unhappy  monarch.  As  it  was,  he  walked  fast, 
bending  his  steps  unconsciously  towards  his  hotel.  The 
sky  showed  a  pale  blue  between  the  lines  of  house-tops, 
for  as  usual  the  sun  was  having  its  morning  duel  with 
the  white  fog  that  haunts  the  streets  of  Weidenbruck 
at  this  period  of  the  year.  The  sun  was  winning,  too, 
— as  it  generally  did  for  an  hour  or  so, — and  even  caus- 
ing the  huge  icicles  that  hung  from  the  eaves  to  drip 
a  little  at  their  sharp  and  glistening  extremities.  But 
Trafford  noted  none  of  these  things. 

220 


THE   WAR   ON    THE    WINE-SHOP       221 

"  I  am  very  ill  or  very  much  too  well,"  he  said  to 
himself,  in  diagnosis  of  his  own  feverish  unrest.  "  If 
I  were  an  Elizabethan  courtier  I  should  write  a 
sonnet;  if  I  were  an  ordinary  American  I  should  play 
tennis  or  golf.  Being  neither,  I  am  suffer- 
ing the  torments  of  a  wild  beast  in  a  small  cage; 
my  brain  is  bursting  from  enforced  inaction.  Saun- 
ders,  who  is  always  right,  calls  me  a  madman,  and  to 
justify  his  opinion  I  shall  probably  break  a  shop  win- 
dow in  about  two  minutes." 

Whether  or  no  he  had  the  slightest  intention  of 
putting  his  insane  threat  into  execution,  he  looked 
behind  him  to  see  if  he  were  observed.  A  couple  of 
men  were  following  a  few  paces  in  his  rear.  To  his 
excited  fancy  there  seemed  something  sinister  about 
their  muffled  forms.  One  carried  a  thick  stick,  and 
both  seemed  to  look  on  him  with  eyes  of  malice. 

"  As  I  live,  I  believe  they  are  going  to  attack  me," 
he  said  gleefully  to  himself.  "  No,"  he  reflected,  "  the 
wish  is  father  to  the  thought.  There  is  not  the 
slightest  reason  why  they  should  attack  me.  They 
are  probably  respectable  burghers  doing  a  morning's 
shopping  in  the  Konigstrasse." 

The  original  idea,  however,  fascinated  him,  and 
he  stopped ;  the  men  stopped  too.  He  went  on,  and  " 
the  men  went  on,  and  a  backward  glance  told  him  that 
they  were  summoning  a  third  person  from  across  the 
street,  and  pointing  at  him  as  an  object  either  of  curi- 
osity or  offence.  He  continued  his  walk  with  a  wild 
hope  in  his  heart,  and  in  the  course  of  a  hundred  yards 
the  hope  became  a  certainty.  A  small  crowd  was  now: 


GLORIA 

dogging  his  footsteps,  and  such  uncomplimentary  ref- 
erences as  "  traitor,"  "  spy  "  and  "  schweinhund  "  as- 
sailed his  ears.  The  situation  would  have  alarmed  most 
men,  and  would  have  accorded  even  "  Nervy  "  Traf- 
ford  a  certain  measure  of  uneasiness  under  ordinary 
conditions.  But  in  his  present  state  of  psychical 
unrest  the  atmosphere  of  danger  had  a  marvellously 
relieving  eifect.  The  fever  went  out  of  his  bones,  his 
blood  slackened  to  a  normal  speed,  his  brain  adjusted 
itself  to  meet  the  crisis.  He  was  still  spoiling  for  a 
fight,  but  seething  pugnacity  had  given  way  to  ice- 
cool  combativeness.  He  walked  on  without  quickening 
his  pace,  and  though  he  looked  neither  to  right  nor 
left,  he  felt  instinctively  that  the  numbers  of  his  retinue 
were  swelling  fast.  The  hum  of  muttered  execrations 
rose  to  a  stronger  note,  and  every  yard  of  his  prog- 
ress brought  fresh  idlers  in  his  wake.  From  time 
to  time  he  passed  a  policeman,  but  these  were  gor- 
geously uniformed  officials  whose  idea  of  upholding 
civic  dignity  was  to  adopt  a  pose  of  statuesque  aloof- 
ness to  things  human  and  divine. 

Presently  a  piece  of  frozen  snow  struck  him  on 
the  nape  of  his  neck.  He  swung  round  in  a  fury,  and 
as  he  did  so  the  foremost  of  the  pack  struck  his  shako 
from  his  head. 

"  Von  Hiigelweiler ! "  he  cried,  recognising  in  his 
roughly-clad  assailant  the  Captain  of  the  Guard;  and 
quick  as  thought  he  planted  a  sledge-hammer  blow 
full  in  his  rival's  face.  The  Captain  staggered  and 
fell,  and  profiting  by  the  diversion,  Trafford  crossed 
the  wide  street  and  plunged  into  a  narrow  alley.  He 


THE   WAR   ON    THE    WINE-SHOP 

was  running  now,  doubling  in  and  out  of  the  con- 
gested slums  that  formed  this  quarter  of  the  town :  and 
if  there  was  no  fear  in  his  heart,  there  was  a  growing; 
appreciation  of  the  fact  that  his  life  was  in  danger, 
and  that  a  single-handed  contest  with  an  infuriated 
mob  was  an  unsatisfactory  way  of  working  off  super- 
flous  energy.  For  a  space  he  threaded  his  rapid  way 
through  the  winding  alleys  round  the  Goose-market, 
but  the  hue  and  cry  was  strong,  and  the  neighbourhood 
seemed  momentarily  more  fit  for  deeds  of  violence. 

But  Trafford  had  not  lost  his  head,  and  there  was 
a  motive  in  his  flight  that  was  born  of  quick  thought 
and  prospective  vengeance  rather  than  panic  fear.  At 
the  door  of  a  certain  wine-shop  he  halted  breathless; 
a  backward  glance  showed  his  nearest  pursuer  fifty 
yards  distant. 

"  Herr  Krantz ! "  he  called,  bursting  into  the 
brasserie. 

"Mein  Herr?" 

"  Do  you  recognise  me?  " 

The  man  surveyed  him  coolly. 

"  I  never  forget  a  face,  Excellency,"  he  answered, 

"  Good !  "  said  TrafFord.  "  And  are  you  still  loyal 
to  the  good  Queen  Gloria  ?  " 

The  man  nodded  as  if  the  question  was  unnecessary. 

"Then  you  will  help  me,"  said  Trafford;  "I  am 
being  attacked  by  her  enemies." 

Hardly  had  he  spoken  when  a  wild-looking  man. 
entered  the  shop  with  upraised  bludgeon  and  a  cry  of 
"  Traitor ! "  TrafFord  picked  up  a  convenient  beer- 
can  and  floored  the  intruder  with  a  well-directed  blow. 


GLORIA 

"  Close  the  door  and  shut  the  shutters ! "  called  out 
Trafford,  drawing  his  sword  and  holding  at  bay  a 
couple  of  ruffians  who  had  outrun  the  main  body  of  his 
pursuers. 

There  was  little  time  to  spare,  but  there  were  one 
<or  two  early  customers  of  Herr  Krantz,  who  lent 
instant  and  unquestioning  aid.  These  helped  Trafford 
Lold  the  narrow  street  till  the  landlord  had  set  his  oaken 
shutters  in  front  of  the  glass  shop-front.  Then,  as 
the  increasing  pressure  threatened  to  overwhelm  them, 
they  darted  into  the  shop,  banged  the  door,  and  shot 
the  massive  bolts.  A  rattle  of  blows  resounded  on  the 
woodwork,  and  a  chorus  of  fierce  cries  came  in  strident 
chorus  from  the  crowded  lane.  Krantz  switched  up 
the  electric  light  to  relieve  the  darkness. 

"I  will  telephone  for  the  police,"  he  said. 

*'  No,"  said  Trafford,  who  did  not  share  his  host's 
confidence  in  the  Weidenbruck  constabulary.  "  Ring 
up  the  Palace." 

Krantz  retired  to  the  telephone  in  the  inner  room, 
and  the  hammering  on  door  and  shutters  went  on  with 
redoubled  violence. 

"What  is  it  that  they  want?"  asked  the  inmates 
of  the  shop  of  Trafford. 

l"  Me,"  replied  the  latter. 

•"Why?" 

Trafford  had  but  the  vaguest  idea,  but  he  answered 


"  Because  I  am  the  Queen's  friend." 
"  I  have  given  a  message  that  you  are  here  and  in 
-danger,"  said  Herr  Krantz,  returning. 


THE   WAR   ON   THE    WINE-SHOP       225 

"  Thanks.     Are  your  shutters  sound?  " 

"  I  believe  so,  Excellency." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  I  think  we  should  be  well 
advised  to  go  to  an  upper  window  and  survey  the 
prospect." 

Krantz  assented,  and  led  the  way  up  a  'dark  and 
narrow  stair  to  a  room  on  the  first  floor.  Opening  the 
double  windows,  Trafford  surveyed  a  scene  of  many 
heads ;  the  confined  thoroughfare  was  literally  crammed 
with  a  sea  of  human  beings.  All  were  shouting, 
and  those  whose  position  enabled  them  to  do  so  were 
banging  against  the  defences  with  sticks  and  fists. 

"  I  trust  Herr  Krantz's  shutters  are  as  sound  as  he 
thinks,"  he  muttered  looking  down  on  the  surging 
mass  of  his  enemies.  "  What  an  excitable  folk  these 
good  Weidenbruckers  are!  I  suppose  that  cross- 
grained  beast,  Von  Hiigelweiler,  has  been  concocting 
some  evil  tale  about  me,  and  is  egging  them  on  to 
pull  me  to  pieces  in  revenge  for  his  defeat  on  the 
Rundsee.  But  he  finds  me  in  good  fighting  trim,  and 
I  will  follow  up  that  blow  on  the  nose  with  other  atten- 
tions if  I  get  half  a  chance." 

He  craned  his  head  sideways,  to  take  full  stock  of 
his  adversaries,  and  as  he  did  so  it  came  into  contact 
with  a  huge  icicle,  one  of  the  many  that  hung  like 
gigantic  dragon's  teeth  from  the  over-hanging  eaves. 
The  slight  shock  to  his  cranium  instilled  a  fresh  idea. 

"  Have  you  any  snow  on  your  roof,  Herr  Krantz?  " 
he  asked,  drawing  back  into  the  room. 

"  The  pitch  is  steep  and  throws  off  the  snow,  Ex- 
cellency, but  there  may  be  a  hundredweight  or  two." 


226  GLORIA 

"  And  can  we  get  on  to  the  roof?  " 

« If  you  will." 

"  We  might  create  a  diversion,"  pursued  Trafford. 
"  A  little  snow  distributed  scientifically  on  the  heads 
of  these  good  people  might  have  a  wonderfully  cool- 
ing effect  on  their  heated  tempers." 

Krantz  doubted  the  wisdom  of  further  infuriating 
the  mob,  but  Trafford's  enthusiasm  was  infectious,  and 
he  won  his  way. 

A  steep  ladder  and  a  trap-door  gave  access  to  the 
tiled  roof.  A  shovel  was  procured,  and  in  a  few 
seconds  a  small  avalanche  was  dislodged  on  to  the  more 
aggressive  bombarders  of  the  oak  shutters.  The 
effect  was  excellent,  and  a  desire  to  edge  away  from 
the  immediate  proximity  of  the  wine-shop  manifested 
itself.  Trafford,  however,  was  seen,  and  his  image 
served  to  increase  the  streperous  chorus  of  execra- 
tion below.  He  replied  with  a  mocking  bow  and  a 
shovel-full  of  snow  tossed  lightly  into  the  middle  of 
the  throng.  For  the  moment  he  held  the  advantage: 
curses  were  met  with  jeers;  threats  with  a  polite  obei- 
sance; any  symptom  of  action  was  countered  with  a 
swift  reprisal  of  hurtling  snow.  But  the  situation  was 
not  allowed  to  remain  definitely  favourable.  Among 
the  crowd  was  someone  with  an  intelligent  brain  as  well 
as  an  excitable  nature.  Von  Hiigelweiler  at  this  time 
was  as  full  of  the  sentiment  of  human  hate  as  an  in- 
sulted and  disappointed  egotist  could  be.  The  blow  he 
had  received  had  been  the  last  straw.  A  bullet  in  his 
breast  or  a  sword  through  his  arm  would  not  have 
burned  with  such  a  fire  of  shame  as  the  crude,  coarse 


THE    WAR    ON    THE    WINE-SHOP       227 

shock  of  his  rival's  fist.  All  sense  of  proportion,  all 
notion  of  justice,  let  alone  mercy,  had  long  ago  been 
swamped  by  the  bitter  tide  of  maddening  disappoint- 
ment which  poisoned  his  best  instincts.  And  now 
the  lust  of  vengeance, — baulked  for  the  moment  by  his 
enemy's  resource, — led  him  to  do  rather  a  clever  thing. 
There  was  a  small  fire-station  hard  by  Krantz's 
brasserie,  and  this,  with  the  assistance  of  his  chosen 
followers,  Von  Hiigelweiler  raided.  A  few  minutes 
later,  helmet  on  head  and  axe  in  hand,  he  and  some 
half-dozen  desperadoes  returned  hopefully  to  the 
attack. 

As  the  first  axe-blow  crashed  into  the  oaken  wood- 
work, Trafford  sent  a  mass  of  snow  on  to  the  assailant. 
The  man  shook  under  the  weight,  but  his  helmet  pro- 
tected him,  and  he  went  on  with  his  work  undeterred. 

In  vain  Trafford  and  his  companions  shovelled  their 
crystalline  ammunition  on  to  the  heads  and  shoulders 
of  their  attackers ;  they  delayed  the  work  of  irruption, 
but  delayed  it  immaterially.  It  was  the  crowd's  turn 
to  jeer  now,  for  the  axes  were  playing  havoc  with  the 
stout  shutters,  and  it  seemed  a  matter  of  minutes  only 
before  oak  yielded  to  steel,  and  the  inevitable  rush  of 
furious  humanity  flooded  the  beer-house. 

"  We  are  undone,"  said  one  of  Trafford's  com- 
panions ;  "  we  must  try  and  escape  over  the  roofs." 

"  One  moment,"  said  Trafford,  sprawling  at  full 
length  on  the  tiles,  his  head  hanging  over  the  eaves. 
"  Herr  Krantz,  sit  on  my  legs." 

The  proprietor,  a  man  of  weight,  did  as  he  was  bid. 

With  the  hilt  of  his  sword  Trafford  banged  at  the 


228  GLORIA 

base  of  one  of  the  huge  icicles  that  fringed  the  over- 
hanging cornice.  At  the  third  blow  it  parted — four 
feet  of  glistening  ice  pointed  to  dagger  fineness  de- 
scended like  a  j  avelin  on  to  the  back  of  one  of  the  storm- 
ing party.  The  man  fell  without  a  sound.  A  snarl, 
half  horror  and  half  rage,  burst  from  the  crowd.  His 
comrades  raised  his  'limp  and  lifeless  body  from  the 
snow,  and  bore  it  from  the  danger  zone. 

"  Forward  'again ! "  cried  Von  Hugelweiler,  furi- 
ously rushing  against  the  shop  and  burying  his  hatchet 
in  the  splintering  shutter. 

But  Trafford  was  busy  dislodging  another  icicle  of 
even  more  formidable  dimensions,  and  when  that  was 
used  there  were  a  score  of  others.  The  men  drew  back ; 
one  traitor's  life  was  not  worth  the  risk,  and  Von 
Hugelweiler,  finding  himself  unsupported,  withdrew 
too. 

Whether  caution  would  have  prevailed,  or  whether 
the  spirited  harangue  which  Von  Hugelweiler  now 
addressed  to  his  followers  would  have  had  its  effect, 
can  never  be  known.  A  diversion,  more  serious  than 
hurtling  snow  or  crashing  icicle,  occurred  to  change 
men's  moods.  A  troop  of  horse,  cuirassed,  high- 
booted,  armed  with  naked  swords,  was  making  its  slow 
but  irresistible  way  down  the  congested  thoroughfare; 
and  in  the  midst,  with  black  slouch  hat  and  sable  uni- 
form, rode  the  grimly  smiling  person  of  Father  Bern- 
hardt.  A  cheer  greeted  him,  for  his  errand  was  un- 
known, and  he  might  have  come,  for  all  they  knew,  to 
help  in  taking  the  traitor.  If  that  was  their  idea, 
however,  they  were  soon  undeceived.  The  ex-priest's 


THE   WAR   ON    THE   WINE-SHOP       229 

quick  eye  detected  Von  Hiigelweiler,  and  the  latter, 
reading  its  sinister  message,  commenced  a  hasty 
retreat. 

"  Two  hundred  kronen  to  the  man  who  brings  me 
Von  Hiigelweiler,  dead  or  alive ! "  called  out  Bern- 
hardt. 

There  was  a  movement  in  the  crowd,  and  in  it  the 
late  Captain  of  the  Guard  was  lost  to  view. 

"  Good-morning,  Father  Bernhardt ! "  cried  Traf- 
ford  from  the  roof.  "  You  arrive  at  an  opportune 
moment;  her  Majesty's  lieges  were  getting  trouble- 
some. At  first  I  contented  myself  with  snow-balling 
them,  but  they  turned  nasty  and  I  had  to  despatch  an 
icicle.  I  am  afraid  one  liege  was  rather  hurt." 

Bernhardt's  smile  widened  as  he  took  in  the  situa- 
tion. 

"  A  pity  it  wasn't  Von  Hiigelweiler,"  he  said.  "  But 
you'd  better  let  me  escort  you  to  your  rooms.  For 
the  moment  you  seem  to  have  fallen  out  of  favour 
with  the  plebs." 

"  I  fear  so,"  replied  the  American,  "  and  had  it 
not  been  for  good  Herr  Krantz,  I  might  have  fared 
badly  at  the  hands  of  these  gentlemen." 

"  Herr  Krantz  shall  be  rewarded,"  said  Bernhardt. 
"  His  loyalty  is  well  known  and  appreciated  in  the 
highest  quarter.  And  as  for  these  *  gentlemen,'  as 
you  call  them,"  he  went  on,  turning  to  the  mob,  "  I've 
a  good  mind  to  give  them  an  experience  of  a  cavalry 
charge  in  a  narrow  lane." 

The  suggestion  was  taken  literally  by  the  mob,  and 
something  of  a  panic  began  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 


230  GLORIA 

steel-clad  troopers.  But  Bernhardt  checked  the  move- 
ment with  a  quick  shout. 

"  Stop,  you  fools ! "  he  cried,  rising  in  his  stirrups 
and  letting  his  great  voice  ring  out.  "  Stop,  and  listen 
to  me  before  you  go  about  your  business — or  your 
idling!  What  do  you  mean  by  this  breach  of  the 
peace?  Has  there  not  been  trouble  enough  in  the  city 
of  late  ?  Are  you  men  or  wolves,  that  you  hunt  a  man 
through  the  streets,  and  pull  down  the  doorway  of  a 
peaceful  citizen  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  traitor !  "  cried  one.  "  He  freed  Karl !  " 
cried  another,  and  a  babel  of  tongues  broke  out  in  an 
eager  flood  of  accusation. 

For  a  moment  Bernhardt  let  them  speak.  Then 
he  raised  his  hand  and  won  instant  silence. 

"  He  is  not  a  traitor,"  he  said  with  slow  emphasis. 
"  He  rescued  me  from  the  Strafeburg.  Was  that  the 
act  of  a  traitor?  Had  it  not  been  for  this  brave  and 
resourceful  American  I  should  now  be  rotting  in  a 
dungeon,  and  you  still  beneath  the  yoke  of  Karl.  It  is 
true  that  Karl  has  fled  to  Weissheim,  but  that  was  a 
mistake  due  to  no  fault  of  Trafford's.  And  the  fault, 
whosoever's  it  was,  he  will  undo,  for  he  accompanies 
me  to  Weissheim,  sworn  to  win  back  the  Marienkastel 
from  the  Queen's  enemies." 

The  quiet  force  of  his  words  carried  conviction  to  his 
hearers.  They  feared  the  grim,  black  figure  as  a  pack 
of  dogs  fears  its  master,  but  there  was  a  certain  canine 
affection  in  their  debased  regard.  Bernhardt  was  a 
superior  being,  one  whose  word  was  law.  They  heard 
and  believed,  and  even  began  to  feel  self-reproachful. 


THE    WAR    ON    THE    WINE-SHOP       231 

"  For  shame  on  you,  men  of  Weidenbruck ! "  went 
on  the  ex-priest  in  upraised  tones.  "  Shame  on  you, 
I  say,  compassing  harm  against  the  man  who  delivered 
you  from  tyranny!  This  loyal  friend  of  mine,  whose 
courage  and  craft  you  have  just  experienced  to  your 
own  hurt,  joins  an  expedition  to  Weissheim  as  my 
right-hand  man.  A  foreigner,  he  endures  hardships 
and  dangers  for  your  sake  and  that  of  your  noble 
young  Queen.  *  Traitor/  you  called  him !  Hero  and 
liberator  would  be  better  titles,  I  think,  for  such  as  he. 
With  his  help  there  is  no  fear  but  that  we  shall  capture 
Weissheim  from  our  enemies,  and  bring  back  Karl  a 
prisoner  to  the  capital.  What  reward  will  you  have 
then  for  Trafford,  the  deliverer?  Will  you  hunt  him 
through  your  streets  like  a  mad  dog?  Or  will  you  strew 
garlands  in  his  path,  acclaim  him  from  your  housetops 
— aye,  and  give  him  the  highest  in  your  land  to  wife !  " 

Assuredly  if  the  power  of  words  is  a  wonderful  thing, 
the  power  of  personality  is  infinitely  greater.  Bern- 
hardt  had  spoken  with  a  certain  ready  eloquence,  a 
certain  skill  of  pleading  in  his  client's  cause ;  but  an- 
other might  have  spoken  with  twice  his  skill  and  twice 
his  oratory,  and  have  failed  completely.  It  was  not 
that  he  followed  the  temper  of  the  mob  and  adapted 
himself  to  their  moods;  rather,  he  made  their  moods 
for  them,  and  used  them  to  his  own  sweet  will.  When 
he  reasoned  they  followed  and  were  convinced,  when 
he  lashed  they  cringed,  when  he  reproached  they  suf- 
fered agonies  of  shame ;  and  at  the  end  he  raised  their 
enthusiasm  for  the  object  of  their  late  malice, 'with  the 
ease  of  a  consummate  master  of  men,  and  his  last  ques- 


232 

tion  was  met  with  a  ringing  cry  of  "  Long  live  the 
American !  Long^  live  Gloria  of  Grimland !  "  The  ex- 
priest's  smile  was  more  of  a  sneer  than  anything — so 
cheap  did  he  hold  his  triumph  over  the  flaccid  minds  of 
the  shifty  horde ;  but  his  eye  wandered  to  the  roof  where 
Trafford  stood,  shovel  in  hand,  cheering  himself  and 
his  secretly-married  wife. 

"  We  will  escort  you  to  your  hotel,"  Bernhardt  called 
out. 

"  It  is  not  necessary,"  replied  the  American. 
"  Bernhardt  the  Magician  has  effected  my  meta- 
morphosis— he  has  changed  me  from  a  fox  to  a  lion." 


CHAPTER  TWENTY-THREE 

THE    "  BOB  "    RUN 

IN  the  far  north  of  Grimland,  seemingly  secure  in  its 
snow-blocked  passes  and  its  improvised  fortifications, 
the  mountain  town  of  Weissheim  basked  serenely  in 
the  unclouded  sunshine  of  its  exalted  plateau.  The 
life  of  the  place  went  on,  little  affected  outwardly  by 
the  rude  shocks  of  a  revolution  that  had  unseated  a 
dynasty  at  Weidenbruck,  and  incidentally  horrified  the 
sober-minded  people  of  Europe.  The  railway  was  cut 
that  connected  Weissheim  with  the  capital,  and  the 
telegraph  wires  were  drooping,  limp  and  useless,  from 
their  stark  poles.  The  foreign  contingent, — the  Eng- 
lish and  American  "visitors  of  the  "  Pariserhof," — 
pursued  their  life  of  unadulterated  pleasure-seeking  as 
thoroughly  and  unconcernedly  as  was  their  wont. 
Each  morning  found  the  curling  rink  well  filled  with 
knickerbockered  mortals,  bearing  brooms,  and  hurling 
granite  bowls  over  the  perfect  ice,  and  using  weird 
expressions  of  Scottish  origin  tempered  with  Anglo- 
Saxon  profanity.  The  snows  of  the  hillsides  were 
scarred  with  the  double-tracked  impressions  of  innumer- 
able ski-runners,  and  the  great  toboggan  run — the 
Kastel  run — found  its  daily  complement  of  votaries  for 
its  dangerous  attractions.  Each  night  the  thermome- 
ter showed  its  zero  frost,  and  each  day  the  winter  sun 
proclaimed  its  potency  with  no  uncertain  ray.  Nature 


GLORIA 

was  as  serenely  unconscious  of  politics  as  the  guests  of 
the  Pariserhof  were  of  the  series  of  fogs  that  was  at 
that  time  choking  the  streets  of  London  with  obfuscat- 
ing blackness.  This  winter,  indeed,  was  singularly  like 
other  winters  at  this  ideal  resort  of  athletic  and  con- 
valescent humanity.  It  is  true  that  horribe  tales  of 
rioting  and  violence  had  come  through  from  Weiden- 
bruck, — but  similar  reports  had  been  transmitted  many 
times  previously, — and  if  the  present  rumours  were 
rather  more  highly-coloured  and  substantial  than  here- 
tofore, that  was  no  reason  why  able-bodied  men  and 
women  should  not  skate  and  ski,  and  play  innumerable 
rubbers  of  bridge  over  cups  of  hot  chocolate  and  cream- 
stuffed  eclairs  au  cafe.  It  was  true  that  bands  of 
swarthy  men  in  uniform,  and  armed  with  shovels,  were 
perpetually  throwing  up  snow-works  on  the  surround- 
ing bluffs,  but  they  respected  the  skating-rinks  and  the 
toboggan-runs — which  was  all  the  visitors  cared  about. 
Moreover,  they  furnished  rather  a  picturesque  note 
as  they  dragged  their  grim  pieces  of  ordnance  over  the 
steep  snow  slopes,  and  slowly  hauled  them  into  position 
in  the  aforementioned  snow-works.  What  the  guests 
of  the  Pariserhof  failed  to  appreciate  was,  that  a 
miracle  was  taking  place.  Weissheim  was  loyal! 
Weissheim, — for  years  the  home  of  sedition  and  in- 
trigue,— was  all  for  Karl!  Just  as  in  the  days  of  his 
prosperity  it  had  turned  against  him,  so  now  in  the 
hour  of  his  discomfiture  it  rallied  to  him  as  one  man. 
The  troubles  of  1904  had  taught  the  good  Weissheimers 
that  they  had  a  man  for  a  Sovereign,  that  the  tall, 
good-natured,  sunburnt  gentleman  in  spectacles  had  a 


THE    "BOB"   RUN  235 

hard  fist  inside  his  fur-lined  gloves,  and  a  stout  heart 
under  his  Jaeger  cardigan.  And  the  fact  that  Weid- 
enbruck  had  cast  him  out  was  a  good  enough  reason 
for  their  taking  him  in.  The  men  of  the  mountain 
despised  the  dwellers  of  the  plain.  Rough,  cruel, 
mutable  as  they  were,  there  were  still  certain  primitive 
virtues  among  the  hardy  hill-folk,  and  when  one  day 
Karl  and  the  ever-popular  Saunders  turned  up  unex- 
pectedly at  Weissheim  with  their  tale  of  woe,  they  let 
loose  an  enthusiasm  that  had  never  yet  been  accorded 
to  Grimland's  legitimate  Sovereign.  So,  contrary  to 
his  fears,  Meyer's  task  had  been  an  easy  one.  A  more 
than  capable  engineer,  he  soon  put  the  place  on  as 
sound  a  footing  of  defence  as  shovel  and  energy  directed 
by  German  book-lore  and  Jewish  brains  could  put  it. 
Within  a  week  of  his  arrival  the  whole  plateau  was 
secure  in  its  well-planned  redoubts  and  in  the  excellent 
temper  of  the  civil  and  military  population. 

On  the  twentieth  of  January,  eight  days  after  the 
King's  arrival,  the  race  for  the  Cobham  Cup  took  place 
on  the  bob-sleigh  run.  For  this  event  bob-sleigh  crews 
had  foregathered  from  far  and  near,  for  the  Weiss- 
heim "  bob  "  run  is  acknowledged  to  be  the  fastest,  the 
most  difficult,  and  the  most  sporting  in  the  world.  A 
bob-sleigh, — let  me  explain  for  the  benefit  of  the  un- 
initiated,— is  a  very  long  toboggan  capable  of  holding 
half  a  dozen  persons.  Unlike  an  ordinary  toboggan,  it 
is  steered  from  the  front  by  ropes,  or,  in  the  most  up- 
to-date  "  bobs,"  by  a  wheel.  The  rearmost  man  manip- 
ulates a  brake  with  a  lever  on  either  hand,  and  he 
awaits  the  commands  of  the  steersman,  who  sees  the 


236  GLORIA 

curves  coming  and  realises  when  the  pace  must  be 
checked  to  avert  disaster.  Originally,  the  "  bobbing  " 
was  done  along  the  high  road,  but  this  was  so  dan- 
gerous to  horse-sleighs  and  pedestrians,  and  resulted 
in  such  fearful  accidents,  that  a  special  track  was  con- 
structed every  winter,  avoiding  the  town  and  ultimately 
joining  the  highway  somewhere  near  Riefinsdorf.  The 
winning-post  was  now  at  this  junction,  but  for  ordinary 
pleasure  "  bobbing,"  crews  sometimes  continued  their 
course  along  the  road  itself,  the  constant  declivity  per- 
mitting the  craft  to  travel  at  a  great  speed  almost  as 
far  as  Wallen,  ten  miles  distant,  or  by  branching  to  the 
left,  to  descend  the  Rylvio  Pass  into  Austria.  The 
difficulty  of  dragging  the  "  bob  "  back  made  these  dis- 
tant expeditions  events  of  some  rarity,  and,  indeed,  the 
first  part  of  the  course  was  so  much  more  exciting 
than  the  roadway,  that  it  was  mainly  on  this  portion 
that  practising  for  the  cup  took  place. 

Imagine  a  track  some  six  feet  in  width,  formed  of 
snow  turned  to  ice  by  the  process  of  constant  watering, 
and  so  smooth  and  slippery  that  a  burnished  mirror 
woud  be  rough  and  dull  in  comparison.  Imagine  this 
track  inclined  at  a  steep  angle,  walled  in  on  both  sides 
with  low  ice-banks,  and  trailing  a  long  and  sinuous 
course  for  a  length  of  over  a  mile!  Here  we  have  the 
potentialities  of  speed  when  we  remember  that  racing 
"  bobs  "  are  just  low  frameworks  of  wood  whose  steel 
runners  glide  over  the  polished  track  with  as  little 
friction  as  a  flash  of  lightning  traversing  a  thunder- 
cloud. When  we  add  that  the  bends  of  the  course  are 
sharp,  and  often  flanked  by  sheer  precipices,  and  that 


THE    "BOB"   RUN  237 

to  negotiate  these  bends  at  high  speed  requires  the 
greatest  nerve  and  skill  for  all  concerned,  it  is  hardly 
necessary  to  add  that  the  sport  is  one  which  appeals 
to  wandering  foreigners  in  search  of  sensations. 

"  It  is  a  pity  you  have  not  got  a  crew,"  said  Karl 
to  Saunders,  who,  with  his  wife,  General  Meyer,  and 
Frau  von  Bilderbaum,  were  seated  in  a  wooden  shelter 
erected  at  one  of  the  most  exciting  bends  of  the  course. 
"  With  your  skill  at  the  brake  and  Mrs.  Saunders'  skill 
at  the  wheel,  you  would  have  stood  a  fine  chance  of 
securing  Lady  Cobham's  trophy." 

"  It  is  always  a  pity  when  politics  interfere  with 
sport,"  replied  Saunders.  "  We  manage  these  things 
better  in  England.  When  the  shooting  season  com- 
mences politicians  take  a  rest." 

"  Here,"  said  Meyer,  "  the  shooting  season  com- 
mences when  the  politicians  are  most  active.  Only  we 
don't  shoot  grouse  in  Grimland — only  kings  and  coun- 
cillors." 

Karl  laughed. 

"  I  should  like  to  have  seen  Saunders  take  his  crew 
down  the  run  in  approved  style,"  he  said ;  "  I'd  have 
wagered  my  forest  lands  to  a  frost-bite  that  he'd  have 
done  the  best  time." 

"  I  should  have  liked  nothing  better,"  said  Saunders, 
"  but  it  is  impossible  to  do  oneself  credit  without  prac- 
tice. And  I  have  been  busy  in  other  ways:  I  have 
been  studying  Meyer's  treatise  on  Winter  War,  and  I 
am  not  sure  that  the  possibilities  it  holds  forth  are  not 
more  exhilarating  even  than  the  competition  for  Lady 
Cobham's  cup." 


238  GLORIA 

"  We  are  likely  to  have  that  statement  verified,  if 
what  I  hear  is  true,"  said  the  Commander-in-Chief 
quietly. 

"  And  what  you  hear  generally  is  true,"  muttered 
Karl. 

"  In  this  case  I  have  no  doubts,"  said  Meyer.  "  A 
large  military  expedition  left  Weidenbruck  the  day 
before  yesterday;  its  destination  and  object  are  not 
difficult  to  surmise." 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  Frau  von  Bilderbaum  trucu- 
lently. "  If  blows  are  to  be  struck,  the  sooner  the 
better ;  we  are  ready  for  them." 

There  was  a  sound  of  cheering  from  the  direction 
of  the  starting  point,  signifying  that  the  first  crew  was 
launched  on  its  downward  course. 

It  was  morning — 10.30  A.  M.,  to  be  precise — for  the 
race  had  to  be  run  before  the  sun's  power  waxed  hot 
enough  to  affect  the  surface  of  the  track.  And  the 
scene  was  a  gay  one:  blue  and  white  flags  were  flying 
from  poles  at  every  hundred  yards  of  the  course,  and 
from  the  crowded  stands  erected  at  the  several  points 
of  vantage. 

And  the  day  was  a  typical  Weissheim  day: 
the  sky  was  of  a  deep  and  ever-deepening  blue.  Not 
a  breath  of  air  stirred  over  the  snow-veiled  face  of  the 
country.  The  sun  had  risen  above  the  shoulder  of 
the  mighty  Klauigberg,  and  had  turned  the  myriad 
crystals  into  a  sparkling  ocean  of  unbelievable  white- 
ness. To  draw  breath  was  to  fill  one's  lungs  with  per- 
fect air  and  one's  heart  with  ecstasy.  To  gaze  at  the 
shimmering  panorama  of  towering  peaks  and  snowy 


THE    "BOB"   RUN 

buttresses  was  to  behold  the  finest  view  in  central 
Europe. 

"Here  they  come!"  ejaculated  Karl  excitedly,  as 
a  "  bob "  came  into  view,  accompanied  by  a  slight 
scraping  sound,  as  the  runners  slithered  over  the  ada- 
mantine track. 

All  held  their  breath,  for  the  speed  of  the  descending 
craft  was  absolutely  terrifying.  At  the  prow  was  a 
goggled  figure  in  a  white  sweater,  with  a  red  dragon — 
the  badge  of  his  crew — worked  on  his  chest.  Behind 
him  was  a  young  girl,  and  behind  her  again  four  men, 
all  similarly  attired.  With  the  exception  of  the  steers- 
man, who  crouched  forward, — a  tense  thing  of  staring 
eyes  and  straining  muscles, — all  were  leaning  back  as 
far  as  possible  to  minimise  wind  pressure. 

"  Too  fast !  "  was  Saunders'  comment. 

Suddenly,  in  response  to  a  hoarse  cry  from  the  steers- 
man, the  crew  swung  their  bodies  to  the  left  and  simul- 
taneously flung  out  their  arms  in  the  same  direction. 
The  manoeuvre  was  designed  to  bring  the  "  bob  "  round 
the  corner  without  checking  the  pace  by  applying  the 
brake.  The  result  was  unsatisfactory.  The  prow  of 
the  "  bob  "  struck  the  counter-bank  violently,  there  was 
a  gasp  from  a  hundred  throats,  and  a  feathery  cloud 
of  snow  rose,  in  which  the  limbs  of  half  a  dozen  human 
beings  were  whirling  in  an  intricate  and  inextricable 
confusion.  No  one,  fortunately,  was  damaged,  and  in 
a  few  seconds  the  crew  had  sorted  themselves  and  re- 
sumed their  chequered  career. 

"  Heroism  and  no  brake !  "  muttered  Karl.  "  How 
like  our  friend  the  American !  " 


240  GLORIA 

"  May  his  fall  be  as  harmless ! "  said  Saunders. 

Frau  Bilderbaum  snorted. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  him  go  over  the  precipice ! " 
she  exclaimed. 

"  You  probably  will — metaphorically  speaking,"  said 
Meyer.  "  He  is  accompanying  this  expedition  against 
us,  and  he  has  outwitted  me  twice." 

A  minute  later  another  "  bob "  was  making  its 
nerve-shattering  descent  of  the  lightning  run.  This 
time  its  crew, — a  well-drilled  sextet  in  blue  jerseys 
bearing  the  facetious  badge  of  a  tortoise, — swept  round 
the  dangerous  bend  without  mishap. 

"  Well  done,  Miss  Reeve-Thompson ! "  cried  Mrs. 
Saunders,  naming  the  lady  who  was  steering  the  suc- 
cessful craft. 

"  That's  done  me  good,"  sighed  Karl  in  a  note  of 
satisfaction.  "  God's  sky  and  the  best  of  sports ! 
Clean  snow  and  the  champagne  air  of  Weissheim,  and 
what  care  I  for  the  rabble  of  the  plains." 

And  so  the  morning  wore  on,  with  cheers  for  the 
skilful,  gasps  for  the  rash,  and  murmurs  of  pity  for 
the  unfortunate.  There  were  more  spills,  of  course, 
but  fortunately  no  disasters  of  magnitude,  and  at  mid- 
day the  great  competition  was  over.  The  "  times  " 
were  added  up  and  checked,  and  ultimately  Miss  Reeve- 
Thompson's  crew  were  adjudged  the  winners,  and  ac- 
companied by  a  cheering  throng  they  received  the  cup 
from  Lady  Cobham  at  the  Pariserhof. 

The  royal  party  waited  till  the  crowd  of  onlookers 
had  dispersed,  and  then  wended  their  way  back  to  the 
Brunvarad — the  Winter  Palace — on  foot.  As  they 


THE    "BOB"   RUN 

followed  the  track  that  bordered  the  run  they  fell  in 
with  General  von  Bilderbaum,  struggling  up  the  hill 
in  a  great  grey  overcoat,  very  moist  and  red  of  face. 

"  Well,"  said  Karl,  "  how  are  the  new  forts  looking?  " 

"  Very  workmanlike,  sire.  We  have  got  two  new 
quick-firers  on  to  the  south  escarpment  of  redoubt  A, 
and  some  old  but  serviceable  vutraileuses  in  position  in 
the  long  fosse  between  redoubts  C  and  D." 

"  Excellent,"  drawled  Meyer.  "  And  our  dear,  loyal 
gunners — are  they  continuing  to  make  good  practice  at 
the  ice-targets  ?  " 

'*  I  am  sorry  for  anything  they  get  sight  of  within 
two  kilometres,"  responded  the  General. 

"  I  am  well  served,"  said  Karl.  "  Herr  Saunders 
herfe  has  developed  into  a  student  of  minor  tactics,  and 
I  fancy  would  handle  a  brigade  as  well  as  a  Moltke 
or  a  Kuroki." 

At  this  moment  they  reached  the  point  of  the  path 
where  it  crosses  the  bob-sleigh  run,  and  the  races  being 
over  and  the  track  closed,  a  wooden  plank  had  been  laid 
across  the  glassy  surface  to  afford  secure  foothold. 
The  men  halted  to  allow  the  ladies, — Mrs.  Saunders  and 
Frau  Generalin  von  Bilderbaum, — to  pass  first.  But 
the  latter, — a  lady,  as  the  reader  knows,  of  somewhat 
egregious  proportions, — was  not  gifted  by  nature  with 
a  rapid  gait  through  trampled  snow.  Holding  high 
her  green  skirt,  and  planting  her  cumbrous  snow-boots 
with  deliberate  precision,  she  advanced  puffing  and 
panting  like  a  mountain  engine  in  a  snow-drift.  Be- 
fore, however,  she  had  come  up  with  the  others,  a 
strange  man  accosted  the  royal  party  from  the  opposite 


direction.  The  individual  in  question  was  wearing  skis, 
and  looked  fatigued  and  travel-stained,  as  though  he 
had  come  fast  and  far.  A  black  slouch  hat  was  pressed 
over  his  forehead,  and  it  was  not  till  he  was  quite  close 
that  Karl  and  his  companions  recognised  the  features 
as  those  of  Von  H'iigelweiler. 

The  Captain's  salutation  was  as  abrupt  as  his 
appearance. 

"  Hail !  King  of  half  a  country,"  he  said. 

Quietly,  swiftly,  and  without  ostentation,  Saunders 
and  Meyer  covered  the  newcomer  with  their  revolvers. 

"  Hands  up  when  you  speak  to  his  Majesty,"  said 
the  latter. 

Von  Hiigelweiler  dropped  his  ski-ing  pole  and  held 
up  his  hands. 

"  I  have  a  weapon  in  my  breast,"  he  said,  "  but  it 
is  not  for  any  here." 

Meyer  quietly  inserted  his  hand  into  the  Captain's 
breast  pocket,  and  drew  out  a  revolver.  It  was  of  the 
Grimland  army  pattern,  and  loaded  in  all  its  chambers. 
He  swiftly  extracted  the  cartridges  and  transferred 
them  to  his  own  person,  and  then, — having  satisfied 
himself  that  the  Captain  had  no  further  munitions  of 
war, — replaced  the  unloaded  weapon  in  its  original 
position. 

"  Now  you  may  talk  without  the  inconvenience  of 
holding  your  hands  in  that  fatiguing  posture,"  he  said. 
"What  is  it?" 

"  I  come  from  Weidenbruck,"  said  Von  Hiigelweiler, 
"  and  I  bring  news.  The  day  before  yesterday  an  ex- 
pedition left  the  capital  for  Weissheim." 


THE    "BOB"   RUN  243 

Meyer  nodded. 

"  That  is  so,"  he  agreed ;  "  we  get  to  know  things, 
even  in  this  charmingly  remote  district.  Still,  details 
are  always  agreeable.  What  does  the  force  con- 
sist of?  " 

"  The  whole  brigade  of  Guards,  two  battalions  of 
Guides,  and  the  Kurdeburg  Sharpshooters." 

"  They  do  me  honour,"  said  the  King.  "  But  they 
will  find  the  railway  somewhat  disorganised.  You  see, 
we  have  dynamited  the  principal  viaducts,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  two-mile  tunnel  under  the  Kahberg — and 
these  things  are  not  easy  to  repair  when  the  snow  is 
down." 

**  The  railway  is  open  as  far  as  Eselbruck,"  the  Cap- 
tain returned,  "  and  from  thence  they  will  come  over 
the  passes  on  skis.  They  will  come  quicker  than  they 
would  in  the  summer." 

"  That  is  true  enough,"  agreed  Meyer.  "  And  who 
is  in  command  of  this  imposing  force  ?  " 

"  Bernhardt." 

"  Indeed !    And  the  second  in  command?  " 

"  A  cursed  American. 

Meyer  smiled. 

"  That  describes  Heir  Trafford  admirably,"  he  said. 
*'  But  how  about  yourself,  Von  Hiigelweiler?  How  is 
it  you  are  not  occupying  a  distinguished  position  in 
this  amiable  field- force  ?  " 

"  Because  there  are  limits  even  to  my  dishonour," 
retorted  Von  Hiigelweiler  fiercely.  "  In  transferring 
my  services  from  his  Majesty  King  Karl  to  her 
Majesty  Queen  Gloria,  I  knew  I  was  sinking,  but  I 


GLORIA 

only  learned  a  little  while  ago  to  what  great 
depths." 

"  You  are  the  man  who  was  sent  to  hold  the  Strafe- 
burg  for  me,"  said  Karl  sternly,  "  and  who  handed  it 
over  to  the  mob  rather  than  risk  your  skin." 

"  I  did  not  yield  to  fear,"  retorted  the  Captain,  turn- 
ing almost  savagely  on  his  sovereign.  "  I  yielded  to 
an  even  more  odious  thing — passion.  The  Princess 
pleaded  with  me,  balancing  her  woman's  grace  against 
my  loyalty.  I  could  face  the  fury  of  the  multitude, 
but  I  succumbed  to  the  blandishments  of  a  wanton !  " 

The  word  drew  an  exclamation  of  surprise  and  in- 
dignation from  Saunders. 

"  And  you  had  your  reward !  "  he  said  with  a  sneer. 

"  Aye,  I  have  had  my  reward,"  was  the  bitter  an- 
swer. "  Love  such  as  mine  always  has  its  reward.  I 
learned  who  it  was  upon  whom  the  fickle  Gloria  had 
bestowed  her  worthless  heart.  Who  was  it,  do  you 
think?  A  nobleman,  a  great  soldier,  a  Prince?  No! 
She  was  conducting  a  guilty  intrigue  with  the 
schweinhund  Trafford — the  man  who  betrayed  his  party 
by  immuring  the  enemy  in  a  spikeless  Eisenmadchen. 

"Yes,  that's  true  enough,"  said  Karl.  "The 
schwetrihund  Trafford,  as  you  call  him,  possesses  some 
rudimentary  ideas  of  humanity,  despite  his  absurd 
predilection  for  anarchy.  I  may  remember  that  when 
my  time  comes." 

"  It  was  an  act  of  folly  and  weakness,"  said  the 
Captain  recklessly,  "  an  act  of  treachery  to  the  side  he 
had  espoused.  As  soon  as  I  heard  of  it  I  hastened  to 
Bernhardt's  chambers  with  the  news." 


THE   "BOB"   RUN  245 

"  And  he  said?  "  asked  Karl. 

"  He  said  he  loved  and  hated  you,"  replied  the 
Captain. 

Karl  nodded  thoughtfully. 

"  I  believe  that  expresses  his  mental  attitude  towards 
me  very  well,"  he  said. 

"  It  was  the  mad  paradox  of  an  absintheur,"  Von 
H'iigelweiler  interrupted.  "  He  was  half  drunk  and 
wholly  dangerous,  and  I  left  him.  I  roused  the  people 
against  Trafford,  but  the  scoundrel  defended  himself 
cunningly,  and  in  the  end  the  devil-ridden  Bernhardt 
turned  up  and  rescued  him  with  a  troop  of  Dragoons." 

"  And  why  are  you  here?  "  asked  General  Bilder- 
baum. 

"  For  one  thing,  there  are  two  hundred  kronen  on  my 
head  in  Weidenbruck,"  replied  Von  Hiigelweiler. 
"  That  makes  the  place  unhealthy.  Neither  do  I  de- 
sire to  serve  that  delightful  trinity,  the  wanton  Queen, 
the  dipsomaniac  priest,  and  the  verdomte  Ameri- 
can." 

"  But  why  come  here?  "  persisted  Bilderbaum,  grow- 
ing, if  possible,  still  redder  in  the  face. 

Von  Hiigelweiler  ignored  the  speaker,  and  turned  to 
Karl. 

"  I  have  no  claim  on  your  trust,"  he  said  to  his  late 
sovereign,  "  no  claim  on  your  mercy — but  my  services 
may  be  useful.  I  ask  no  high  command,  I  merely 
crave  to  be  put  somewhere  in  the  firing-line,  where  I 
can  put  a  bullet  into  the  heart  of  the  cursed  American." 

A  silence  followed  this  savage  request.  Then  Karl 
turned  to  General  Bilderbaum. 


246  GLORIA 

"  What  say  you,  General  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Do  you 
like  the  look  of  your  new  recruit  ?  " 

"  No,  sire,"  said  the  old  soldier  bluntly.  "  I  have 
some  blackguards  in  my  command,  but  no  double-dyed 
traitor  such  as  this." 

"  What !  "  Von  Hiigelweiler's  nerves, — never  well 
under  control, — were  raw  and  ragged  from  his  recent 
bitter  experience,  and  by  no  means  improved  by  the 
forced  and  hasty  journey  he  had  undertaken  to  WTeiss- 
heim.  With  a  cry  of  rage  and  indignation  he  swung 
round  on  the  plain-spoken  old  General,  maddened  at 
the  insult,  and  raising  his  fist  as  though  to  avenge  it 
with  a  blow.  But,  as  on  a  previous  occasion,  the 
General's  wife  was  near  at  hand  to  protect  the  sacred 
person  of  her  lord  and  master.  Boiling  with  indigna- 
tion, she  hurled  her  ample  person  at  the  mutinous  cap- 
tain. Von  Hiigelweiler  gave  ground — he  would  have 
been  a  Samson  had  he  not  done  so.  And  he  stepped, 
not  on  to  the  snow,  not  on  to  the  plank  that  crossed 
the  run,  but  on  to  the  surface  of  the  bob-sleigh  track 
itself.  He  might  have  trodden  on  a  cloud  or  a 
trembling  bog  for  all  the  foothold  it  afforded,  and  with 
a  cry  he  fell,  the  Frau  von  Bilderbaum  falling  heavily 
and  incontinently  on  him.  Hands  were  stretched  out, 
but  too  late.  Before  the  General  could  clutch  the 
skirt  of  his  devoted  partner,  the  ill-assorted  pair, — 
struggling,  writhing,  uttering  noises  of  wrath  and  fear, 
— had  commenced  the  descent  of  the  "  bob "  run. 
Nothing  could  stop  their  downward  progress.  Swifter 
and  swifter  the  terrified  twain  glided,  impotent  hands 
clutched  at  the  frictionless  banks,  and  impotent  heels 


THE    "BOB"    RUN 

were  pressed  fiercely  and  fruitlessly  on  to  the  glassy 
surface  of  the  track.  Down  they  went,  the  Captain 
struggling  and  swearing,  the  woman  struggling  and 
bellowing.  The  pace  grew.  They  became  disengaged. 
Von  Hiigelweiler  slithered  swiftly  on  his  side,  Frau  von 
Bilderbaum  rotated  slowly  in  a  sitting  posture,  descend- 
ing with  ever-growing  momentum.  Up  a  banked  curve 
she  swung,  fat  arms  were  raised  frantically,  a  roar 
of  pathetic  discomfort  shook  the  frosty  air,  and  the 
devoted  woman  disappeared  from  view  round  a  bend 
of  the  track. 

Much  of  the  colour  had  left  General  Bilderbaum's 
face.  No  one  laughed,  for  the  ludicrous  mishap  might 
well  be  a  prelude  to  a  serious,  even  fatal,  accident. 
Saunders  climbed  up  a  high  mound  of  piled  snow,  from 
which  the  further  bends  of  the  track  might  be  visible. 

"  There  are  some  men  at  work  lower  down  sweeping 
the  course,"  he  said,  speaking  clearly  for  all  to  hear. 
"  They  have  heard  the  cries  and  they  are  preparing 
to  stop  them.  Two  have  put  their  brooms  across  the 
track — but  the  speed  is  gathering.  They  have  stopped 
her — no !  the  impetus  was  too  great — the  sweepers  are 
rolling  backwards  in  the  snow.  Wait !  the  pace  is 
checked — others  are  helping.  They've  got  her.  Now — 
ah!  Hiigelweiler's  on  the  top  of  them!  What  a  colli- 
sion! She's  up,  unhurt!  It's  all  right,  General;  your 
good  lady  is  safe  and  sound  of  limb.  She's  had  a 
shaking,  but  her  nerves  are  good,  or  I'm  no  judge  of 
physiology.  Go  down  and  look  after  her." 

"  Aye,  and  after  Hiigelweiler,  too,"  spluttered  the 
veteran.  "  I've  a  heavy  reckoning  with  that  young 


248  GLORIA 

scoundrel  that  will  take  some  paying,  or  I'm  not  the 
son  of  Karl  Bilderbaum  the  Fierce." 

"  I  wonder," — said  Karl,  as  soon  as  General  Bilder- 
baum had  left  to  recover  his  hapless  spouse, — "  I  won- 
der whether  this  man  Von  Hiigelweiler  might  not  prove 
a  valuable  addition  to  our  force.  He  seems  to  have  the 
enemy's  discomfiture,  if  not  our  interests,  very  much  at 
heart." 

"Where  would  you  put  him?"  asked  Saunders. 

"  I  should  put  him  where  David  put  Uriah  the  Hit- 
tite,"  said  Meyer.  "Where  he  has  himself  asked  to 
be  put — in  the  firing  line." 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-FOUR 

EFVAL   INFLUENCES 

VON  HTTGELWEILEB,  had  spoken  true  when  he  said  that 
the  expedition  had  started  against  Weissheim.  Two 
days  after  Trafford  had  so  narrowly  escaped  the  vio- 
lence of  the  Weidenbruck  mob  the  various  regiments 
were  entrained  at  the  great  terminus  in  the  Bahnhof- 
strasse.  The  sight  of  men  being  despatched  to  kill 
their  fellow-men  always  rouses  enthusiasm  in  the  human 
breast,  and  there  was  abundance  of  flaunting  banners, 
martial  melody,  and  sounding  cheers  from  the  stay- 
at-homes.  And  in  the  rolling  of  drums  and  the  rever- 
beration of  cheers  Gloria  herself  seemed  to  have  forgot- 
ten her  original  prejudice  againsf  the  campaign.  And 
as  the  engine  screeched  and  the  royal  train,  decked  with 
the  green  and  yellow  bunting  of  her  House,  moved 
slowly  from  the  station,  she  felt  a  Queen  going  forth 
to  re-conquer  a  rebellious  province,  a  just  instrument 
of  picturesque  vengeance,  rather  than  the  player  of  the 
unwelcome  role  of  blood-guilty  adventuress.  She  put 
her  head  out  of  the  window,  and  bowed  and  smiled  and 
waved  her  hand,  a  thing  of  girlish  excitement  with  the 
minutest  appreciation  of  the  underlying  grimness  of 
the  situation. 

That  day  they  steamed  to  Eselbruck.  At  this  point 
the  railway  was  cut.  The  great  stone  viaduct  that 
spanned  the  deep  ravine  was  a  thing  of  shattered  piers 
and  broken  arches,  an  interesting  problem  for  the  en- 

249 


250  GLORIA 

gineer,  and  an  object-lesson  in  the  effective  use  of  de- 
tonating cartridges.  At  this  point,  therefore,  the  units 
were  derailed,  a  depot  formed,  and  on  the  next  morn- 
ing the  whole  force, — shod  with  skis  and  in  full  march- 
ing order, — set  itself  in  motion  towards  Weissheim. 
During  the  march  Trafford  neither  saw  nor  heard  from 
Gloria.  He  was  not  unhappy.  The  fine  air,  the  healthy 
exercise,  the  splendid  uplands  through  which  they  were 
passing,  won  him  to  a  mood  of  strong  content.  Some- 
thing had  lit  a  fire  in  his  heart  that  no  wind  of  dis- 
favour or  adversity  could  extinguish.  He  knew  that 
he  was  a  living  man  again,  moving  among  creatures  of 
flesh  and  blood;  not  a  spiritless  mechanism  in  a  world- 
of  automata.  He  had  seen,  or  fancied  he  had  seen,  a 
spark  of  human  love  in  the  young  Queen's  heart,  and 
that  spark  he  swore  to  kindle  into  flame  by  deeds  of 
reckless  heroism.  And  the  great  energy  that  was  his 
birthright, — stimulated  to  its  highest  capacity  by  the 
bracing  air  of  the  snow-clad  passes  and  the  extraordi- 
nary beauty  of  the  land, — filled  his  spirit  with  a  vast 
and  comforting  hopefulness. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  he  found  Bernhardt 
by  his  side.  Trafford  began  to  thank  him  for  his 
rescue  from  the  mob,  but  Bernhardt  interrupted  him. 

"  I  know  about  your  secret  marriage,"  he  said,  "  and 
though  I  think  it  folly,  it  is  the  sort  of  folly  I  admire. 
Von  Hiigelweiler  told  me  about  it.  To  the  people  he 
told  another  story, — a  less  respectable  story  without 
ring  or  sacrament." 

"  So  I  gather.  But  I  can  fight  calumny  as  I  can 
fight  other  enemies  of  my  Queen." 


RIVAL    INFLUENCES  251 

Bernhardt  nodded  approvingly. 

"  They  breed  men  in  your  country,"  he  said,  and  then 
asked:  "  Are  you  tired?  " 

"  It  is  impossible  to  be  tired  in  such  air,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  Ski-running  is  a  new  sport  to  you,  and  you  are  in 
love." 

Trafford  laughed  lightly. 

"  I  am  in  love  with  Grimland,"  he  said.  **  Weiden- 
bruck  is  a  villainous  place;  but  these  gorgeous  moun- 
tains, with  their  great,  sombre  forests  and  limitless 
snow-fields,  make  up  a  picture  I  shall  never  forget.  I 
should  like  to  be  king  of  such  a  country." 

"  One  never  knows,"  said  Bernhardt.  "  A  great  and 
striking  victory,  and  your  dream  may  be  realised.  But 
for  the  present,  remember  that  you  are  a  soldier,  not 
a  consort.  Our  friend  Von  Hiigelweiler  has  an  evil 
tongue,  and  he  has  spread  cruel  slanders  about  you 
and  the  Queen.  Evil  things  win  quick  credence  in 
Grimland,  and  the  only  way  to  give  them  the  lie  is  for 
you  and  Gloria  to  see  nothing  of  each  other  at  pres- 
ent." 

"  That  is  a  little  rough  on  a  newly-married  man." 

"  Your  marriage  is  nothing.  The  Grimlander,  who 
is  fickleness  personified, — and  who  would  like  a  change 
of  dynasty  once  a  week, — is  never  a  Republican.  He 
would  not  tolerate  the  idea  of  his  sovereign  mating  with 
a  commoner.  The  only  possible  chance  of  such  a  step 
being  accepted  is  for  you  to  do  something  quite  out 
of  the  ordinary  in  this  campaign.  It  will  hardly  be 
wise  even  then — but  we  might  chance  it." 


GLORIA 

"  I  believe  in  fate,"  said  Trafford  stubbornly. 

"  Comfort  yourself  your  own  way,"  said  Bernhardt. 
"  I,  for  my  part,  wish  you  well.  There  is  a  dash  of 
the  devil  about  you  that  wins  my  best  wishes.  But  I 
have  no  further  time  to  waste  discussing  your  affairs. 
I  am  wanted  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  and  the  time 
is  one  of  war,  not  of  love.  Only,  remember  my  com- 
mand, my  advice  if  you  prefer  it ;  keep  your  mind  fixed 
on  your  military  duties,  and  avoid  her  gracious  Maj- 
esty Gloria  as  you  would  the  plague." 

That  night  they  encamped  at  Schafers-stadt — a 
quaint  old  town  lying  in  a  sunless  valley  between  pre- 
cipitous hills.  Next  day  they  started  early,  reaching 
Wallen,  a  mountain  village  within  easy  striking  dis- 
tance of  Weissheim,  shortly  after  sunset.  Here  accom- 
modation was  somehow  found  for  the  considerable  force 
under  Bernhardt's  command.  Shelter  .had  to  be  ob- 
tained for  all,  for  to  sleep  out  of  doors  at  such  an  alti- 
tude during  the  winter  months  meant  awakening  in 
another  world.  Food  had  also  to  be  provided  on  a 
large  scale,  for  the  force  was  what  is  called  a  "  flying 
column " ;  that  is  to  say,  it  was  proceeding  across 
country  in  the  most  direct  line  to  its  objective,  and 
not  relying  on  road  or  railway  for  a  continuance  of 
supplies. 

The  only  transport  accompanying  the  force  was  of 
a  grimmer  nature.  A  number  of  pieces  of  ordnance 
were  being  conveyed  on  flat-bottomed  sleighs,  specially 
constructed  for  the  purpose.  And  these  had  to  be 
drawn,  with  infinite  labour,  by  men  on  skis,  for  the  way 
lay  over  a  countryside  many  feet  deep  in  snow,  and 


RIVAL    INFLUENCES  253 

horses  would  have  been  absolutely  useless  for  such  a 
purpose.  Trafford,  therefore,  was  busy  on  his  arrival 
unearthing  cheeses  and  loaves,  wine-casks  and  other 
fascinating  objects,  from  the  cellars  of  the  more  or  less 
hospitable  Walleners.  Whilst  so  employed  he  was,  ap- 
proached by  a  private  of  the  Guards  with  a  note. 

"  Come  to  the  big  house  in  the  Market  Square — 
the  one  with  the  carved  escutcheon  over  the  door — at 
6.30,  and  I  mil  give  you  dinner. — Gloria  R" 

"  I  will  write  an  answer,"  said  Trafford. 

"  There  is  no  answer,  Excellency,"  said  the  man,  and 
with  a  salute  he  was  gone. 

Trafford  rubbed  his  hand  thoughtfully  up  and  down 
the  back  of  his  neck.  Bernhardt  had  been  quite  defi- 
nite in  his  command  to  him  not  to  see  the  Queen,  and 
though  the  order  was  little  to  his  liking,  he  approved 
its  prudence.  But  the  letter  in  his  hand  was  also  a 
command,  and  it  came  from  a  higher  source  than  even 
Bernhardt's  dictum. 

Accordingly,  at  half-past  six  he  presented  himself 
at  a  big  balconied  house  in  the  Market  Square.  A 
simple  meal  was  spread  for  two  in  the  dining-room, — 
a  low  pitched  apartment  panelled  from  floor  to  ceiling 
in  dark  pine,  and  garnished  with  a  wealth  of  cumbrous, 
antique  furniture. 

He  waited  alone  for  a  few  moments,  cheered  by  a 
most  appetising  and  savoury  odour  of  cooking,  and 
then  Gloria  entered,  smiling,  cordial,  eminently  com- 
posed. 


GLORIA 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come,"  she  began. 

He  took  her  outstretched  hand  and  kissed  it. 

"  I  am  a  soldier,  and  I  obey,"  he  said. 

"  When  it  pleases  you,"  she  laughed.  "  And  I  hope 
it  does  please  you  to  dine  tete-a-tete  with  me." 

"  I  can  conceive  no  greater  felicity." 

"None?" 

"  None,"  he  answered.  "  I  have  the  excitement  of 
a  military  campaign,  my  eyes  are  continually  feasted 
with  magnificent  scenery,  and  my  lungs  with  matchless 
air.  Then,  on  the  top  of  a  day  of  most  exhilarating 
exercise  comes  an  invitation  from  the  lady  who  is  my 
wife  on  paper,  and  whom  I  have  sworn  to  make  my 
wife  in  the  sight  of  all  men." 

Gloria  looked  him  fully  in  the  face  and  pressed  a 
small  hand-bell  that  reposed  on  the  table  at  her  side. 

"  Gaspar,"  she  said  to  the  orderly  who  had  entered, 
"  bring  in  the  dinner.  You  know  that  our  friend  Bern- 
hardt  has  forbidden  us  to  meet,"  Gloria  continued, 
after  a  dish  of  jungferribraten — roast  pork  and  juniper 
berries — had  been  set  before  them. 

"  I  know,"  said  Trafford,  "  and  he  was  right." 

"Why?" 

Trafford  hesitated. 

"  Von  Hiigelweiler  seems  to  have  coupled  our  names 
in  an  unpleasant  manner,"  he  said  at  length. 

Gloria  flushed. 

"  Then  you  should  not  have  come,"  she  said. 

"  You  gave  me  no  option.  As  your  husband  I  might 
have  refused.  As  your  officer  I  had  to  obey." 

"  You  might  have  exercised  your  discretion." 


RIVAL    INFLUENCES  255 

"  I  might  if  I  had  any,"  he  replied.  "  But  I  am  a 
most  indiscreet  man.  To-morrow,  so  I  understand,  I 
am  going  into  action.  I  may  win  fame  or  I  may  be 
shot  through  the  head.  As  the  latter  alternative  is 
not  unlikely,  I  am  anxious  to  spend  what  may  be 
my  last  evening  on  earth  with  the  one  woman  whom  I 
really " 

A  forcible  ring  from  Gloria  interrupted  the  sentence's 
conclusion. 

"  Gaspar,  fill  this  gentleman's  glass.  As  you  were 
remarking,  Captain,  Grimland  is  a  very  beautiful 
country." 

"  It  is  a  very  cold  country,"  Trafford  growled, 
plunging  his  fork  into  the  steaming  viands. 

"  To-morrow  night  I  shall  be  sleeping  in,  my  ances- 
tral home — the  Manenkastel,"  Gloria  pursued,  as  the 
orderly  withdrew.  "  It  is  a  fine  old  place,  and  Karl 
forfeited  it  when  my  father  failed  to  carry  out  his 
projects  in  1904." 

"  That  is  the  place  you  wish  me  to  win  back  for 
you?" 

"  If  you  will  be  so  kind?  " 

"  And  suppose  I  am  killed  in  the  process,  will  you 
think  kindly  of  me?  " 

"  Very." 

The  callousness  of  the  affirmation  horrified  him. 

"  I  believe  you  were  right  when  you  said  you  had  no 
heart !  "  he  cried  indignantly. 

"  That  is  what  I  want  you  to  believe,"  she  returned 
calmly. 

"  And  that   if  I   am  killed,"  he  went   on   bitterly, 


256  GLORIA 

"  you  will  welcome  the  termination  of  an  impossible 
situation." 

Gloria  gave  an  almost  imperceptible  shrug. 

"  You  keep  harping  on  death,"  she  protested, 
"  surely  you  are  not  afraid  ?  " 

He  turned  fiercely  on  her,  but  restrained  his  voice  to 
a  level  tone. 

"  From  what  you  know  of  me,"  he  asked,  "  am  I 
the  sort  of  man  who  is  likely  to  be  afraid?  " 

"No,"  she  admitted  readily.  "The  night  of  the 
revolution  you  were  heroism  personified.  Also  I  have 
heard  of  your  exploit  in  Herr  Krantz's  wine-shop,  and 
it — it  sounded  very  typical  of  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  meeting  her  gaze ;  and  an 
instant  later,  he  added :  "  There  is  no  such  thing  as 
fear  in  the  world  for  me." 

"Why?"  she  asked. 

He  answered  her  question  with  a  reckless  bang  on 
the  table. 

"  Because  I  have  lived !  "  he  cried.  "  If  a  bullet  finds 
its  way  to  my  heart  it  will  have  warm  lodging.  I  am 
a  happy  man,  and  my  happiness  stands  high  above  the 
accidents  of  life  and  death.  Eternity  has  no  terrors 
but  solitude,  and  for  me  there  will  never  be  such  a  thing 
as  solitude  again,  because  I  have  met  my  second  self." 

A  hand  was  stretched  out  towards  the  bell,  but  Traf- 
ford  intercepted  it,  and  the  bell  was  swept  off  the  table 
on  to  the  floor. 

Gloria  rose  with  flashing  eyes. 

"  I  asked  you  here  in  a  spirit  of  camaraderie,"  she 
said  haughtily.  "  Because  I  owe  much  to  you  and 


RIVAL   INFLUENCES  257 

am  conscious  of  the  debt,  I  risked  angering  Bernhardt 
and  smirching  my  own  fair  name.  But  you  abuse  my 
confidence.  You  know,  as  I  know,  that  the  present  is 

no  time  for  love-making.  And  yet "  She  stopped 

abruptly,  for  Trafford  had  risen,  and,  picking  up  the 
bell,  he  put  it  on  the  table  before  her. 

"  Ring,"  he  said. 

"Can  I  not  trust  you?" 

"  No ! "  he  retorted.  "  You  gave  me  the  right  to 
love  you,  not  by  your  promise  to  go  through  the  cere- 
mony of  marriage  with  me,  not  by  the  fulfilment  of  that 
promise,  but  by  a  certain  light  that  shone  in  your  eyes 
for  a  few  brief  seconds  in  the  chapel  of  the  Neptun- 
burg.  I  am  exercising  that  right  to-night." 

She  drew  in  her  breath  sharply. 

"  You  said  just  now  that  I  was  heartless,"  she  said. 

"  That  is  the  usual  lover's  lie,"  he  retorted ;  "  the 
reproach  that  is  only  justified  by  its  manifest  untruth. 
But  I  am  a  gentleman,  as  you  vaguely  surmise,  and 
I  will  not  persist  in  an  attention  which  is  unwelcome 
to  you.  I  came  to  make  an  appeal.  You  have  but  to 
command,  and  I  will  leave  without  another  word." 

"What  is  the  appeal?" 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  make  it  ?  "  he  countered. 

"  You  have  said  so  much  you  had  best  go  on." 

Trafford  drew  back  the  curtain  of  the  mullioned 
window  and  gazed  at  the  shining  pageantry  of  the 
frosty  skies.  For  a  full  minute  he  stood  gazing,  and 
then  he  dropped  the  tapestry  and  faced  his  royal 
hostess. 

"  I  said  I  was  content  with  things  as  they  are,"  he 


258  GLORIA 

began,  "  and  to  a  point  that  is  so,  for  they  are  better 
than  they  might  have  been.  But  with  the  eye  of  faith 
I  see  something  nobler  than, this  struggle  for  a  king- 
dom we  have  no  right  to  possess.  Something  has  made 
me  wise  these  past  few  days :  something  has  taught  me 
that  the  love  of  excitement  can  be  very  cruel,  and 
that  the  harrying  of  a  brave  man  is  not  necessarily  a 
more  elevating  sport  than  bull-baiting." 

"  You  wish  me  to  abandon  this  expedition  against 
Karl?" 

"  Oh,  it  is  an  absurd,  impossible  demand,  I  know," 
he  said,  "  and  I  don't  ask  you  for  a  moment  to  con- 
sider it.  There  are  a  hundred  reasons  why  we  should 
go  on,  and  there  is  only  one  reason  why  we  should 
not;  and  that  reason  does  not  seem  to  weigh  with  you 
at  all.  But  I  am  a  madman,  a  visionary,  and,  like  Bern- 
hardt,  I  see  things.  And  in  my  hallucinations  I  see  a 
woman  who  is  Queen,  not  of  Grimland,  but  of  an  even 
more  delectable  country.  And  the  woman  I  see  has 
but  one  subject,  and  she  is  content  with  him  alone,  be- 
cause her  sway  over  him  is  so  paramount." 

Gloria  stood  very,  very  still.  Only  her  fingers 
moved  as  they  plucked  the  fur  trimming  of  her 
dress. 

"  If  I  asked  you  to  give  up  Grimland  and  fly  with 
me  to  America,  would  you  do  it?  "  he  cried  passionately. 

"  No — but  I  should  like  to  hear  you  ask  it."  A 
smile,  the  slowest  smile  that  ever  was,  bent  the  extreme 
corners  of  the  fascinating  lips,  and  ultimately  broke 
in  a  burst  of  sunshine  illuminating  the  whole  face.  Its 
arrival  found  him  by  her  side,  his  hand  on  her  arm, 


RIVAL    INFLUENCES 

and  a  look  in  his  eyes  that  sought  for  something  with 
an  almost  pathetic  intensity. 

"  I  do  ask  you  to  come  to  America  with  me,"  he 
said.  "  Will  you  come — come  to  New  York,  the  great, 
bright  city,  where  the  people  do  not  do  the  horrible 
things  they  do  in  Grimland  and  other  out-of-the-way 
corners  of  Europe?"  He  waited  a  moment,  and  then 
added :  "  Of  course,  we  shall  always  keep  this  beauti- 
ful country  in  our  hearts — a  land  of  rocky  spires  and 
splintered  crags,  a  land  of  swelling  snow-fields  and 
amazingly  blue  skies ;  a  land  where  the  air  is  sweet  and 
keen  and  pine-laden,  and  the  face  of  Nature  stands  bold 
and  true,  crisp-cut  from  the  chisel  of  the  Master- 
mason." 

There  was  no  answer.  His  hand  trembled  on  her  arm 
like  a  vibrant  note  of  interrogation;  his  eyes  strained 
to  catch  the  light  he  longed  for,  the  light  he  had  seen^ 
or  fancied  he  had  seen,  in  the  gloom  of  the  Chapel 
Royal. 

"  Will  you  come?  "  he  breathed;  and  for  a  pregnant 
second  the  world  of  things  material  rolled  back  from 
his  consciousness,  and  left  him  standing  alone  in  space 
with  his  fate.  For  the  strange  brain  was  playing 
tricks  with  him, — as  big,  uncontrolled  brains  do  with 
impulsive, .ill-balanced  people.  His  five  senses  were  in 
abeyance,  or  warped  beyond  all  present  usefulness.  He 
saw  a  pair  of  eyes  as  points  of  light  in  a  world  of 
darkness,  but  all  sense  of  reality  had  utterly  deserted 
him.  He  was  as  he  had  been  in  the  Chapel  Royal 
when  his  bride  had  made  her  hesitating  avowal  of  a 
half-passion.  A  sheet  of  flame  seemed  to  be  passing 


260  GLORIA 

through  his  body,  a  roseate  glow  suffused  his  vision; 
he  never  realised  that  he  was  uttering  a  beloved  name 
in  a  voice  of  thunder  and  grasping  a  beloved  object 
with  no  little  strength.  But  ecstatic  entrancements, 
however  subliminal,  yield  ultimately  to  rude  physical 
shocks,  arid  dimly  and  slowly  the  world  of  dreams  van- 
ished and  he  became  conscious  that  someone  was  hitting 
him  violently  on  the  back.  Turning  round  with  half- 
dazed  eyes,  he  found  himself  confronted  with  the  stern 
lineaments  of  Father  Bernhardt.  The  ex-priest,  clad 
in  a  military  overcoat  and  high  leggings,  and  powdered 
with  still  unmelted  snow,  carried  mingled  wrath  and 
astonishment  in  his  countenance. 

"  Sunde  und  Siechheit!  "  he  cried.  "  Are  you,  too, 
an  absintheur,  Captain  Trafford?  " 

For  the  moment  Trafford  had  not  the  vaguest  idea 
what  an  absintheur  might  be,  but  he  replied  vaguely 
in  the  negative. 

Bernhardt  uttered  an  oath. 

"  I  called  you  three  times  by  name,"  he  said,  "  and 
I  struck  you  three  times  on  the  back  before  you  would 
condescend  to  pay  me  any  attention." 

"  I  apologise,"  said  Trafford ;  "  I  was  thinking  of 
other  things." 

"  You  were  in  a  delirium,"  retorted  Bernhardt. 
"  The  fiend  of  Tobit " 

"  Oh,  hang  the  fiend  of  Tobit ! "  interrupted  Traf- 
ford hotly.  "  I  may  be  a  lunatic,  Bernhardt,  but  I'm 
a  healthy-minded  lunatic,  if  there  is  such  a  thing.  I 
was  making  love,  and  we'll  leave  it  at  that*  if  you 
please,  and  drop  all  talk  of  delirium  and  fiends." 


RIVAL   INFLUENCES  261 

"  I  was  finding  an  excuse  for  you." 

"  I  don't  need  one,  thank  you."  Trafford,  as  is  the 
way  with  interrupted  lovers,  was  in  an  irritable  mood, 
and  being  so  did  not  notice  that  Bernhardt  was  really 
angry. 

"  Indeed  you  do !  "  retorted  the  ex-priest.  "  I  for- 
bade you  expressly  to  see  the  Queen,  and  I  find  you 
dining  alone  with  her,  and  making  violent  love  to  her 
in  addition." 

'*  I  received  a  command  to  dine." 

"And  a  command  to  make  love?"  sneered  Bern- 
hardt. 

"  That  is  my  affair." 

Bernhardt  turned  from  the  irate  American  to  the 
confused  Gloria,  and  there  was  little  deference  in  his 
regard. 

"  Your  Majesty  does  not  value  your  reputation  too 
highly,"  he  said.  "  As  long  as  you  play  at  being  a 
maid  it  is  as  well  to  act  like  a  maid." 

"  My  reputation  can  look  after  itself,"  she  retorted 
with  dignity. 

"  We  are  five  thousand  feet  above  sea  level,"  put  in 
Trafford,  "  and  at  least  two  thousand  above  the  level 
of  perpetual  convention.  What  was  a  wise  precaution 
at  Weidenbruck  becomes  sheer  timidity  at  Wallen. 
But  it  you  still  think  my  presence  is  infectious  to  the 
Queen's  honour,  I  will  withdraw.  The  question  I  came 
to  ask  has  been  answered,  and  answered  well." 

Bernhardt  turned  a  pair  of  piercing  eyes  on  the  in- 
trepid American.  Trafford  met  the  look  without  flinch- 
ing. 


262  GLORIA 

"  You  are  a  very  strange  person,  Herr  Trafford," 
said  the  ex-priest  slowly ;  "  you  are  not  afraid  of  me. 
I  believe  you  and  Saunders  are  the  only  two  men  in 
Grimland  who  are  capable  of  standing  up  to  me  in 
my  wrath.  But  tell  me  before  you  go,  what  was  this 
question  you  put  and  what  was  its  answer." 

"  I  asked  her  Majesty  if  she  wished  to  continue  this 
expedition  against  Karl,  and  she  answered,  *  No.' ' 

"  She  answered  '  No ! '  "  Bernhardt  gasped. 

"  If  you  do  not  believe  me,  ask  her  yourself." 

Again  Bernhardt  turned  to  the  young  Queen. 

"  Is  it  true?  rt  he  demanded. 

Gloria  passed  her  hand  across  her  forehead,  as  if  she 
was  just  recovering  from  a  condition  of  unconscious- 
ness. When  she  spoke  it  was  in  jerky,  consequent  sen- 
tences. 

"  Karl  is  a  brave  man ;  he  is  not  a  bad  man.  It  is 
cruel  to  harry  people — loyal,  brave  people.  He  is  the 
lawful  sovereign  of  Grimland.  I  don't  wish  to  cause 
suffering.  I " 

"  There  speaks  a  Schattenberg ! "  interrupted  Bern- 
hardt with  a  mocking  laugh.  "  The  man  who  killed 
your  father  is  entrenched  within  two  leagues  of  you. 
Your  house,  the  historic  Marienkastel,  home  of  the 
Schattenbergs  for  centuries,  is  his  appanage.  You 
have  six  thousand  men  at  your  back  to  win  you  back 
your  heritage;  but  the  old,  heroic  fire  is  burning  low, 
the  fierce  old  blood  is  running  thin — the  Schattenbergs 
are  bred  out !  " 

The  man's  calculated  scorn,  his  splendid  insolence, 
filled  Trafford  with  admiration;  and  it  was  plain  that 


RIVAL    INFLUENCES  263 

his  caustic  speech  was  not  without  its  effect  on  the 
sensitive  Gloria.  She  seemed  to  be  emerging  from  a 
stupor  which  still  drugged  her  senses. 

"  I  would  like  the  Marienkastel,"  she  conceded ;  "  it 
is  the  home  of  my  childhood;  its  walls  are  very  dear 
to  me.  It  should  be  mine  by  right." 

"  Say  rather  by  might,"  retorted  Bernhardt.  "  You 
like  the  Marienkastel,  but  you  do  not  like  the  wither- 
ing fire  that  decimates  the  storming  party.  Its  walls 
are  dear  to  you,  but  the  forlorn  hope,  the  scaling  lad- 
ders, and  the  petard  are  abhorrent  to  your  soul.  You 
wish  to  possess,  but  the  strong  man  armed  is  too  for- 
bidding a  person  to  be  ousted." 

"  If  the  expedition  were  against  the  Marien- 
kastel  " 

"  It  is  against  the  Marienkastel,"  interrupted  Bern- 
hardt. "  The  Marienkastel  is  the  key  to  the  whole 
town.  If  we  can  hold  it  for  half  an  hour  we  can  dic- 
tate what  terms  we  like." 

"  Dictate  what  terms  we  like ! "  Gloria  repeated  the 
last  words  of  his  sentence  with  eyes  aflame.  She  was 
a  Schattenberg  again,  ardent,  ambitious,  reckless.  All 
trace  of  weakness  had  left  her. 

"And  can  we  take  it — can  we  hold  it?"  sne  went 
on  in  tones  of  eager  inquiry. 

Bernhardt  stretched  out  his  hand  towards  Trafford. 

"  There  is  the  answer  to  your  question,"  he  said. 

"  You  will  capture  the  Marienkastel  for  me  ?  "  she 
asked,  turning  to  her  silent  lover. 

Trafford  looked  at  the  girl  before  him  long  and 
searchingly  before  answering. 


264*  GLORIA 

"  The  Marienkastel  is  the  key  to  Weissheim,"  he 
said  at  length ;  "  it  is  also,  it  appears,  the  key  to  your 
heart.  I  thought  there  was  a  nearer  way, — a  better 
way.  Yes,"  he  went  on,  "  I  will  capture  the  Marien- 
kastel,  or  do  all  that  a  man  can  do  to  capture  it, 
and  then  I  will  claim  my  reward." 

"  You  shall  have  it,"  said  Bernhardt ;  "  I  swear  it." 

"  And  I  promise     .     .     ."  breathed  Gloria. 

Trafford  nodded  to  himself. 

"  I  am  content,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-FIVE 

THE    OPENING    BARS 

MR.  AND  MRS.  SAUNDERS  were  having  breakfast  to- 
gether in  the  pretty  stone  villa  they  had  built  for 
themselves  at  Weissheim,  overlooking  the  Nonnensee. 
The  view  of  the  mountains  beyond  the  lake,  the  exquis- 
ite expanse  of  snow,  growing  into  sparkling  life  under 
the  touch  of  the  rising  sun,  furnished  a  prospect  of 
sufficiently  absorbing  grandeur.  But  Saunders'  eyes 
wandered  only  from  an  omelette  aux  fines  herbes  to  a 
belated  copy  of  the  Morning1  Post.  English  newspapers 
had  been  scarce  since  the  cutting  of  the  railway,  and 
the  present  specimen  had  reached  its  destination  by  a 
roundabout  way  through  Vienna,  and  had  cost  exactly 
tenpence. 

"What  is  the  Government  doing?"  asked  Mrs. 
Saunders,  who  took  an  interest  in  home  politics. 

"  I  don't  know.  When  I  am  in  this  delightfully 
disorganised  country  the  mild  animosities  of  English 
party  strife  fill  me  with  contempt.  I  was  reading  the 
*  Births,  deaths,  and  marriages  '  just  to  prove  to  my- 
self that  there  are  natural  tragedies  and  romances,  even 
in  the  decently  regulated  areas  of  Bayswater  and  May- 
fair." 

"  Is  anyone  we  know  mentioned  ?  " 

"By  Jove!"  ejaculated  Saunders  after  a  pause. 

965 


266 

"Well?" 

"By  Jove!" 

"  Please  go  on,  Robert,"  said  Mrs.  Saunders  with 
pardonable  impatience. 

"  Angela  Knox,  that  American  girl,  is " 

"Well?" 

"  Is  going  to  marry  a  grouse  moor." 

"  Pray  be  explicit." 

"  Glengourlie — a  little  man  in  the  Scots  Guards. 
Eldest  son  of  the  Marquis  of  Stratheerie;  ten  thou- 
sand a  year  and  the  best  half  of  Inverness-shire." 

Mrs.  Saunders  received  this  startling  information 
with  composure. 

"  She'll  make  a  handsome  peeress,"  was  her  comment. 

"  What  about  George  Traff ord  ?  "  asked  her  hus- 
band. 

"  Grimland  is  a  country  of  short  memories  and  swift 
changes,"  said  Mrs.  Saunders.  "  It  converted  you 
from  a  blase  bachelor  to  a  happy  husband ;  and  it  has 
converted  George  Trafford  from  a  broken-hearted  des- 
perado to  a  lover  of  an  usurping  queen." 

"  Do  you  believe  Von  Hiigelweiler's  tale  ?  "  asked 
Saunders  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  and  no ;  I  believe  George  has  undoubtedly 
been  fascinated  by  Gloria.  With  her  beauty,  high 
spirit,  and  fearless  temperament,  she  was  bound  to 
attract  him.  Fresh  from  a  recent  disappointment — 
and  lacking  as  he  is  at  all  times  in  all  sense  of  pro- 
portion— he  is  quite  capable  of  demanding  her  hand  in 
marriage.  But  Gloria, — though  she  would  like  him 
well  enough  as  a  friend, — would  not  dream  of  stulti- 


THE    OPENING    BARS  267 

fying  herself  by  marrying  a  plain  American;  still  less 
would  she  stoop  to  the  depths  Von  Hiigelweiler  hinted 
at." 

"  I  am  sorry  about  it  all,"  said  Saunders.  "  Nervy, 
with  all  his  faults,  is  a  lovable  sort  of  scoundrel,  and 
he  had  a  pretty  severe  knock  over  Vaffaire  Angela.  If 
Gloria  is  fooling  him  for  her  own  purposes — as  seems 
more  than  certain — it  will  leave  him,  spiritually  and 
mentally,  in  a  condition  of  pulp." 

"  You  mean " 

"  Oh,  not  exactly ;  for  one  thing,  he's  mad  already. 
He's  like  a  man  on  a  free-wheel  bicycle  without  a 
brake — all  right  on  the  level,  but  in  the  deuce  of  a 
fix  if  he  begins  to  go  downhill." 

Mrs.  Saunders  looked  thoughtful. 

"  There  is  a  possibility  that  he  may  never  live  to 
be  disillusioned,"  she  said.  "  He  is  said  to  be  accom- 
panying this  force  againt  us,  and  he  is  not  the  sort 
of  person  to  cultivate  the  art  of  taking  cover.  How- 
ever, things  will  be  settled  one  way  or  the  other  soon." 

"  Very  soon,"  Saunders  agreed.  "  Meyer's  scouts 
report  that  the  enemy  encamped  last  night  at  Wallen ; 
and  they  don't  waste  time  there.  Six  thousand  able- 
bodied  men  in  a  bracing  climate  eat  a  good  deal — 
and  Wallen  is  a  small  place  with  a  limited  supply  of 
hams  and  maize.  They  will  be  here  to-day  or  to- 
morrow." 

Mrs.  Saunders  devoted  her  attention  to  the  omelette 
which  furnished  their  morning  meal.  She  was  a  lady 
who  had  made  a  point  of  hiding  her  emotions,  and  the 
near  prospect  of  her  husband  being  in  danger  necessi- 


268  GLORIA 

tated  a  strong  effort  of  control.  It  was  some  minutes 
before  she  spoke  again. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  this  morning?"  she 
asked  at  length.  "  I  should  '  curl,'  if  I  were  you. 
You  haven't  *  sent  down  'a  *  stone '  for  weeks,  and  I 
think  a  respite  from  your  military  preoccupations 
would  do  you  good." 

Saunders  sighed  regretfully,  and  stretched  himself. 

"  There  is  a  competition  to-day,"  he  replied ; 
"  Major  Flannel's  Cup,  and  I  am  not  in  for  it.  I  may 
watch  for  a  bit,  but  things  are  too  critical  now  to 
admit  of  much  leisure.  You  see,  I've  been  told  off  to 
hold  the  Marienkastel,  and  our  good  friends  the  enemy 
may  send  us  their  visiting-cards  at  any  minute." 

"And  can  you  hold  the  Marienkastel?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Saunders. 

Saunders  smiled. 

"  I  can  hold  it  for  a  couple  of  hours,"  he  replied, 
"  which  is  all  that  Meyer  requires  of  me.  We  are  to 
put  as  many  of  the  enemy  out  of  action  as  we  can, 
and  then  yield  possession  with  a  bad  grace.  After  that 
we  have  a  little  surprise  for  them:  a  couple  of  con- 
cealed mortars,  which  will  blow  the  historic  old  fabric 
and  those  inside  it  into  several  thousand  fragments." 

Mrs.  Saunders  suppressed  a  shudder. 

"And  are  they  sure  to  attack  the  Marienkastel?" 
she  asked. 

"  Absolutely  certain,"  he  replied,  "  if  they  know  the 
rudiments  of  military  science.  Besides,  there  are  sen- 
timental reasons  for  their  doing  so,  for  the  old  Schloss 
is  the  ancestral  home  of  the  Schattenbergs." 


THE    OPENING    BARS  269 

Mrs.  Saunders  was  silent  for  a  moment ;  then  she 
spoke,  hesitatingly,  but  with  a  forced  calm. 

"  And  will  your  position — be  a  very  dangerous 
one?  "  she  asked. 

"  Fairly  so,"  he  replied  lightly.  "  You  see,  we  shall 
have  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the  main  attack,  and  we 
shall  hang  on  as  long  as  we  can.  But  it  is  in  the 
evacuation  that  we  shall  probably  lose  most  heavily." 

Mrs.  Saunders  nodded  sagely. 

"  And  it  is  in  the  subsequent  bombardment  that  the 
enemy  will  suffer  most  severely?  "  she  inquired. 

"  Precisely.  It  will  mean  turning  the  fine  old  place 
into  a  shambles,  but  we  must  strike  hard  or  not  at  all ; 
and  Karl's  blood  is  up,  as  it  was  in  1904." 

A  deep,  vibrant  "  boom  "  broke  on  their  ears,  and 
died  with  long-drawn  echoes  amid  the  encircling  moun- 
tains. 

"  The  enemy  have  sent  their  visiting-card ! "  said 
Mrs.  Saunders. 

Saunders  rose,  and  stepped  hurriedly  out  of  the  long 
window  on  to  the  balcony,  his  wife  following.  The 
former  produced  a  pair  of  field-glasses,  and  critically 
regarded  a  puff  of  smoke  that  hung  motionless  in  the 
still  morning  air  to  the  extreme  left  of  the  pano- 
rama. 

"  Four-inch  Creusot,"  he  said  laconically ;  "  that 
means  that  redoubt  A  has  found  something  to  practise 
at — a  feint  attack,  probably.  I  must  go  to  my  post 
in  the  Marienkastel.  They'll  have  worked  round  there 
in  a  couple  of  hours,  and  then  the  serious  business  will 
begin." 


270  GLORIA 

Another  sounding  roar  came  pealing  along  the  hill- 
sides, and  then  a  veritable  concert,  as  the  other  iron 
mouths  took  up  the  harsh  music  and  shook  the  thin 
air  with  their  stern  melody. 

From  where  they  stood  the  actual  operations  of  the 
attack  were  invisible  by  reason  of  the  pine  woods  that  / 
clothed  the  plain  in  that  direction.  But  there  was 
much  to  see  from  the  commanding  site  occupied  by  the 
Saunders5  villa.  The  town  itself, — with  its  circle  of 
improvised  forts, — lay  considerably  below  them  to  the 
left.  Companies  of  soldiers  were  painly  discernible  de- 
filing to  the  various  jpoints  of  defence  assigned  to  them, 
and  the  blare  of  bugles  rang  shrilly  through  the  stri- 
dent chorus  of  the  distant  cannon.  It  was  plain  that 
the  greatest  activity  prevailed,  but  an  activity  well- 
ordered,  thought-out,  and  purposeful. 

Meyer, — with  all  his  unsoldierly  distaste  for  personal 
danger, — was  almost  perfect  as  the  general  of  a  threat- 
ened city.  Every  detail  had  been  thought  out,  every 
unit  of  the  defence  was  ready  at  a  moment's  notice  to 
take  his  appointed  place. 

Saunders  turned  his  sweeping  gaze  to  the  right,  and 
it  lighted  upon  the  private  curling-rink  belonging  to 
Major  Flannel's  villa.  He  smiled,  for  the  contest  for 
the  Flannel  Cup  had  already  begun,  and  was  going  on 
heedless  of  the  stern  symphony  that  was  making  the 
valleys  echo  with  bursts  of  shattering  sound. 

A  curling  competition  demands  a  whole-hearted  ab- 
sorption from  its  votaries,  and  takes  little  heed  of 
battle,  murder,  and  sudden  death,  provided  the  ice  is 
keen  and  in  good  order. 


THE    OPENING   BARS  271 

**  What  are  you  smiling  at?  "  demanded  Mrs.  Saun- 
ders. 

"  British  sense  of  proportion,"  he  replied,  and  as 
he  spoke  a  man  on  skis  approached  from  the  street 
below  and  called  on  him  by  name. 

"  Orders  from  the  General,  Excellency !  " 

Saunders  took  the  note.  It  was  a  hurried  scrawl  in 
Meyer's  handwriting: 

**  Proceed  instantly  on  receipt  of  this  to  the  Marien- 
Jcastel.  Hang  on  till  they  get  within  a  hundred  yards, 
then  bolt  for  the  abatis  in  the  new  cemetery!  "  Saun- 
ders read  it  aloud,  and  then  turned  to  his  wife. 

"  Farewell,  dearest,"  he  said  simply.  "  When  I 
have  gone  make  your  way  to  the  Pariserhof.  You 
will  be  perfectly  safe  there." 

Mrs.  Saunders  hung  speechless  a  moment  in  her  hus- 
band's embrace.  When  she  spoke  it  was  apologetically, 
as  one  demanding  a  difficult  favour. 

"  Robert,"  she  pleaded,  "  should  I  be  a  great  nui- 
sance in  the  Marienkastel?  I  could  tend  the  wounded 
— I  might  even " 

"  To-day  is  a  day  of  obedience  and  discipline,"  he 
interrupted  with  firm  kindness.  "  I  am  ordered  to  the 
Marienkastel,  you  to  the  Pariserhof.  Yours  is  the  post 
of  anxiety,  mine  of  excitement.  Man  is  selfish  and 
woman  patient — and  so  the  latter  always  has  to  bear 
the  crueller  burden." 

She  bit  her  lip  and  nodded,  and  released  herself  from 
his  embrace.  Strong  arms  handed  him  his  rifle,  and 
cool,  steady  hands  fastened  the  cartridge-belt  around 
his  waist. 


GLORIA 

"  You  know  Karl  entreated  you  not  to  take  part  In 
this  stupid  war,"  she  said  with  the  suspicion  of  a  break 
in  her  voice.  "  Was  it  kind  to  me  to  refuse  him  ?  " 

"  It  was  infernally  cruel,"  he  replied.  "  Necessity 
generally  is." 

Again  she  nodded  thoughtfully.  He  was  right ;  he 
was  bound  to  help  Karl,  but  it  needed  a  brave  woman 
to  admit  the  necessity.  But  Mrs.  Saunders  was  no  or- 
dinary woman,  and  for  a  minute  her  hazel  eyes  fought 
hard  and  not  unsuccessfully  againsjt  'the  hot,  pent 
stream  that  battled  for  an  exit.  For  a  moment  she 
fought  the  unequal  fight;  then  nature  gained  the  day. 

The  tears  won  through,  and  the  strong,  supple  form 
became  a  clinging  thing  of  naked  grief. 

Saunders  pressed  the  bowed  head  tenderly  against 
his  bosom,  and  intertwined  his  fingers  lovingly  in  her 
hair. 

"  Good-bye,  best  beloved,"  he  said.  "  And  whatever 
comes,  defeat  or  victory,  the  thrill  of  triumph  or  the 
darkness  that  is  death,  there  will  only  be  one  vision 
before  me — the  cool,  grey  eyes  that  looked  into  my 
soul  and  found  something  there  not  wholly  unworthy 
of  a  woman's  love." 

"  God  who  gave  you  to  me,  protect  you,"  she  sobbed, 
"  and  teach  me  to  live  through  to-day." 

And  as  Saunders  strode  through  the  snow  to  the 
Marienkastel  there  was  no  fear  in  his  heart;  merely  a 
great  longing  for  the  reunion  which  must  come  to 
loyal  hearts — here  or  hereafter. 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-SIX 

THE    PARLEY 

THE  Pariserhof,  whither  Mrs.  Saunders  betook  herself 
at  her  husband's  desire,  was  sufficiently  safe,  both  from 
its  situation  and  character,  to  form  a  rallying  point 
for  non-combatants  of  both  sexes  and  diverse  national- 
ities. From  its  upper  stories  an  excellent  view  of  the 
hostilities  could  be  obtained,  and  in  its  cellars  there 
was  not  only  efficient  shelter  from  chance  missiles,  but 
a  considerable  mitigation  of  the  thunder  of  artillery. 
The  latter  apartments,  therefore,  were  crowded  with  old 
ladies  and  young  children,  with  a  sprinkling  of  sensi- 
tive males  who  had  come  to  Weissheim  to  recover  nerve- 
tone  rather  than  to  listen  to  gun-fire.  On  the  flat  roof 
over  the  great  dining-hall  Mrs.  Saunders  was  standing, 
field-glasses  in  hand,  surveying  the  operations  with  a 
steady  and  critical  gaze.  Most  often  her  glasses  were 
directed  towards  the  Marienkastel,  against  which  the 
forces  of  the  invading  party  were  being  gradually 
f ocussed ;  but  no  sound  passed  her  lips,  neither  did  the 
fine,  white  fingers  that  held  the  field-glasses  twitch  or 
tremble  in  the  least  degree.  Hers  was  the  curious, 
irrational  pride  that  prefers  to  hide  its  suffering, 
though  the  suffering  be  doubled  by  the  effort  of  con- 
cealment. 

A  few  adventurous  spirits  had  sallied  forth  to  other 
points  of  vantage,  where  they  could  get  a  better, 
though  less  secure,  view  of  the  rare  spectacle  afforded 

273 


GLORIA 

by  the  fateful  day.  But  for  once  the  curling-rink  and 
skating-rink  belonging  to  the  hotel  were  deserted;  for 
once  the  surface  of  the  ice-runs  was  unscarred  by  the 
iron  runners  of  innumerable  toboggans.  Only  on 
Major  Flannel's  private  rink, — not  far  from  the 
Marienkastel  itself, — the  contest  for  the  Flannel  Cup 
was  proceeding  as  though  the  day  was  a  day  of  sport 
and  not  of  war.  The  keenest  curlers  in  Weissheim 
were  there :  "  Skipper  "  Fraser,  the  sandy  Scot,  whose 
perky  humour  lent  such  spice  and  piquancy  to  the  most 
tragic  moments  of  the  game;  Major  Flannel  himself, 
roaring  out  his  commands,  reproaches,  and  encour- 
agements in  a  voice  which  easily  made  itself  heard 
through  the  growing  din  of  battle;  Strudwick,  the  gi- 
gantic American,  who  could  always  be  relied  on  when 
a  "  knock-out "  shot  was  required ;  little  Hobbs,  the 
Englishman,  who  sent  down  his  stones  in  an  unorthodox 
manner,  but  always  within  an  inch  of  where  his  "  skip- 
per "  wanted  them,  so  that  a  particularly  brilliant  shot 
came  to  be  known,  not  as  a  "  beauty  "  or  a  "  daisy," 
but  as  a  "  Jimmy  Hobbs." 

But  all  the  while  Bernhardt  had  been  developing  his 
plans  with  the  deliberate  skill  of  a  born  general.  He 
had  forced  the  enemy  to  unmask  the  batteries  that 
guarded  the  lower  part  of  the  town.  These  he  could 
have  forced  at  a  price,  had  he  willed,  for,  though  cun- 
ningly constructed,  snow  ramparts  are  not  an  effective 
protection  even  against  rifle  fire.  But  to  have  done 
this  would  have  meant  long  hours  of  heavy  loss,  with 
the  grim  prospect  of  stern  street  fighting  when  the  last 
redoubt  yielded  to  his  superior  forces.  Could  he  cap- 


THE   PARLEY  275 

ture  the  Marienkastel  and  establish  the  few  pieces  of 
artillery  he  had  brought  so  laboriously  with  him,  the 
town  would  be  at  his  mercy,  and  he  could  make, — as  he 
had  said, — any  terms  he  wished.  By  eleven  o'clock  the 
movement  against  the  old  Schloss  commenced  in  ear- 
nest. Bernhardt  might  have  brought  his  guns  to  bear 
on  the  ancient  masonry,  but  there  were  sentimental 
reasons  for  not  reducing  the  historic  pile  to  a  heap  of 
rubble;  nor  was  he  the  man  to  waste  time  in  an  artil- 
lery duel  if  the  place  could  possibly  be  taken  by  a  coup 
de  main.  The  Marienkastel  must  be  restored  intact  to- 
its  rightful  owner  and  peace  dictated  to  the  dethroned 
monarch  before  the  sun  sank  to  rest  behind  the  western 
mountains. 

So  Saunders, — watching  the  course  of  operations 
from  a  lofty  tower, — perceived  imposing  bodies  of  In- 
fantry approaching  against  him  on  three  sides.  On 
they  came  on  their  skis  over  the  soft  snow — Guides  in- 
extended  order  to  the  right,  Sharpshooters  cresting  a- 
low  bluff  to  the  left,  and  throwing  up  a  hasty  en- 
trenchment of  snow  with  the  evident  intention  of  hold- 
ing the  hill  against  any  retaliatory  turning  movement 
on  the  part  of  the  garrison ;  and  in  the  centre, — cling- 
ing to  the  wooded  ground, — came  a  powerful  force  of 
Guards  in  their  winter  fighting  garb  of  white.  In 
the  extreme  rear  was  Gloria  with  the  reserve,  guard- 
ing the  ammunition  sleighs  and  a  battery  of  field 
guns. 

Between  the  invaders  and  the  Schloss  lay  the  bob- 
sleigh run,  and  Saunders, — expecting  a  bombardment 
of  the  Marienkastel, — had  filled  the  track  with  a  strong; 


276  GLORIA 

advance  guard  of  his  men.  The  bob-run  made  an  ex- 
cellent trench,  and  fortunately  at  this  point  had  but 
a  very  slight  declivity,  so  that  the  men  found  no  diffi- 
culty in  retaining  their  position  on  its  glassy  surface. 
The  track  indeed  started  high  up  by  the  Marienkastel, 
just  above  Major  Flannel's  curling-rink,  and  began 
with  a  tremendously  steep  S-shaped  curve,  known  as 
"  The  Castle  Leap  " ;  then  it  went  straight  for  a  bit 
and  almost  level,  then  wound  round  again  with 
gradually  increasing  steepness,  and  so  on  in  a  succes- 
sion of  curves  and  bends  till  it  joined  the  main  road 
some  thousand  feet  below,  near  the  hamlet  of  Riefins- 
dorf. 

But  before  a  shot  was  fired  against  the  castle  a  small 
party  was  seen  approaching  under  a  white  flag. 
Through  his  field-glasses  Saunders  detected  the  form 
of  his  friend  Trafford  accompanied  by  a  couple  of 
officers,  all  on  skis.  Instantly  Saunders  sent  out  a  cor- 
responding party,  also  under  the  white  flag.  Trafford, 
having  expressed  a  desire  to  see  the  officer  command- 
ing the  Schloss,  was  blindfolded,  together  with  his  two 
satellites,  and  conducted  through  the  lines  of  the  de- 
fence to  the  enceinte  of  the  Marienkastel. 

"  You  are  in  the  presence  of  the  Commander,"  said 
the  officer  who  had  conducted  him  to  the  courtyard, 
where  Saunders  was  awaiting  him.  "  What  is  it  you 
have  to  say  ?  " 

"  My  message  is  brief,"  said  Trafford,  speaking  in 
German,  and  saluting  his  unseen  adversary.  "  It  can 
be  framed  in  one  word — surrender !  " 

"  And   it   can   be    answered   in   one   word,"    replied 


THE   PARLEY  277 

the  Commander  of  the  Marienkastel,  also  in  German. 
"  And  in  a  good  English  word — *  No.'  " 

"  Saunders,  by  all  that's  W9nderful!"  ejaculated 
Trafford. 

"  The  same,  dear  disturber  of  the  peace." 

"  Then  that  makes  things  much  easier.  I  am  a 
humane  man,  as  you  know,  and  I  have  no  particular 
desire  to  kill  or  be  killed.  We  are  in  a  position  to 
take  this  eligible  chateau,  which  belongs  of  right  to  the 
lady  I  am  privileged  to  call  Queen.  But  in  the  taking 
you  will  probably  hurt  a  few  of  my  loyal  and  trusty 
followers,  and  we  shall  certainly  damage  some  of 
yours.  My  suggestion  is,  that  you  should  evacuate 
with  the  full  honours  of  war,  retaining  all  arms  and 
standards,  and  playing  any  drums,  bugles,  or  other  in- 
struments of  military  music  you  may  chance  to 
possess." 

"And  in  return  for  our  obliging  courtesy?" 

"  We  will  give  a  free  amnesty  to  all  who  have  taken 
part  against  her  gracious  Majesty  Queen  Gloria.  As 
for  one  Karl,  styling  himself  King  of  Grimland,  he 
can  live  anywhere  he  likes  outside  the  territories,  pos- 
sessions, and  dependencies  of  the  aforesaid  Gloria,  and 
he  will  be  granted  a  revenue  of  one  hundred  thousand 
kronen  per  annum  from  the  royal  treasury." 

"  The  proposition  is  dazzlingly  attractive,"  returned 
Saunders.  "  But  I  regret  that  I  must  refuse.  My 
orders  leave  me  no  alternative." 

"  Nonsense !  "  said  Trafford  warmly :  "  Here  are 
we,  two  Anglo-Saxons  in  the  middle  of  a  host  of  be- 
nighted foreigners  ready  to  fly  at  each  others'  throats ! 


278  GLORIA 

What  nobler  or  more  dignified  proceeding  than  to  make 
terms  over  their  heads,  prevent  bloodshed,  establish 
peace,  and  inaugurate  an  era  of  good-will  and  pros- 
perity ?  " 

"  A  most  ennobling  idea,"  agreed  Saunders,  "  and 
.one  which  can  easily  be  carried  out  by  your  renouncing 
your  schemes  of  robbery  and  usurpation.  If  you  agree 
to  lay  down  your  arms,  and  throw  yourself  on  the 
mercy  of  my  royal  master,  I  will  use  my  influence  with 
him — which  is  considerable — to  grant  a  full  amnesty 
to  all  traitors,  rebels,  and  discontents,  including  your- 
rself." 

"Enough  jesting!"  cried  Trafford.  "Gloria  owns 
nine-tenths  of  the  country,  and  we  have  a  sufficient 
force  with  us  to  take  Weissheim  two  or  three  times 
over.  I  want  to  save  life — she  wants  to  save  life.  We 
have  no  time  to  waste.  Will  you  surrender — yes  or 
no?" 

«No!" 

Trafford  stretched  out  his  hand  blindly  in  the  di- 
rection of  his  friend. 

"  Good-bye !  "  he  said  soberly.  "  In  ten  minutes  we 
shall  be  potting  at  each  other.  I  hope  it  won't  be  our 
misfortune  to  hit  each  other." 

"  Good-bye ! "  replied  Saunders,  gripping  his 
enemy's  hand  with  a  strong  pressure.  "  I  share  your 
wish  to  the  full.  I  regret  that  circumstances  do  not 
find  us  on  the  same  side,  but  the  fault  is  none  of  my 
making." 

There  was  a  momentary  silence  and  in  that  silence 
was  audible  ,a  peculiar  humming,  grinding  roar,  the 


THE    PARLEY  279 

penetrating  music  of  granite  bowls  gliding  over  thick 
ice. 

"What's  that?  "  asked  Trafford. 

"  Curling,"  replied  Saunders.  "  A  match  on  Major 
Flannel's  rink." 

"Where's  that?"  As  much  of  Trafford's  face  as 
was  visible  under  the  bandage  looked  thoughtful. 

"  Two  hundred  yards  above  us  in  a  hollow  near  the 
start  of  the  bob-run.  Why?" 

"Nothing,"  said  Trafford.  "Only  they  ought  to 
be  warned  that  they  are  playing  a  dangerous  game. 
A  chance  shot  might  convert  a  pleasant  pastime  into 
a  black  tragedy." 

"  I  sent  to  warn  them  half  an  hour  ago,"  replied 
Saunders,  "  but  the  sole  reply  was  that  they  were  hav- 
ing a  most  interesting  match,  and  that  they  hoped  I 
should  have  equally  good  sport." 

Trafford  laughed  and  gave  his  friend  a  final  hand- 
grip. 

"  Good-bye,  again,"  he  said.  "  I  respect  your  de- 
cision to  stick  to  your  post — but  it  is  a  pity, — a  great 
pity." 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-SEVEN 

TRAFFORD    AND    THE    TRENCH 

BERNHARDT  himself  was  directing  the  movement 
against  the  Marienkastel.  He  dominated  the  whole 
force  as  completely  as  though  he  had  been  trained  to 
the  art  of  war  instead  of  the  services  of  the  Church. 
All  felt  that  success  depended  on  one  man,  and  that 
man  was  the  keen-eyed  enigma  who  seemed  to  blend  a 
strain  of  genius  with  the  taint  of  madness  in  his  seeth- 
ing brain. 

"Their  answer?"  he  demanded  of  Trafford,  on  the 
latter's  return  from  his  fruitless  parley. 

"  See  us  d d  first,"  replied  the  American. 

"  Ha !  That  sounds  like  Saunders,"  said  Bernhardt 
with  a  laugh. 

"  It  was  Saunders.  I'm  sorry  we  couldn't  come  to 
terms,  but  my  friend  is  a  pig-headed  gentleman,  and 
he  won't  shift  till  we  poke  our  rifles  through  the  castle 
windows." 

"  Dear  Saunders !  "  exclaimed  Bernhardt.  "  How 
like  him  to  give  us  a  good  fight !  We'll  rush  a  couple 
of  hundred  men  up  for  a  frontal  attack,  and  see  what 
happens.  Let  it  be  the  Guards  under  Captain  Zac- 
chari.  Give  the  order  now,  if  you  please." 

The  charge  sounded,  and  the  men  advanced  in  open 
order,  only  to  be  met  with  a  withering  fire  from  the 
advance  guard  entrenched  in  the  bob-sleigh  run.  A 
good  few  dropped,  and  Bernhardt  having  learned  what 

280 


TRAFFORD    AND    THE    TRENCH       281 

he  required,  gave  the  command  to  halt.  The  men  ac- 
cordingly flung  themselves  prone  in  the  deep  snow,  oc- 
casionally sniping  as  a  head  showed  itself  above  the 
ice  bank  of  the  toboggan  track. 

**  We  must  enfilade  that  trench,"  said  Bernhardt  to 
Traff ord,  who  had  j  oined  him.  "  How  long  will  it 
take  to  get  our  guns  up  to  the  top  of  the  run?  " 

"  Two  hours,  if  the  enemy  don't  interfere.  Two 
years,  if  they  do.  It's  a  steep  bit  of  hill,  and  this  sun 
is  making  the  snow  soft  on  the  surface." 

"  True,"  agreed  Bernhardt.  "  Then  we  must  ad- 
vance all  along  the  line.  It  will  be  costly,  but  we'll 
give  them  a  hot  time  when  we  get  to  close  quarters." 

"  We  shall  lose  at  least  a  hundred  men,"  objected 
Trafford. 

"  More,  I  think,"  said  Bernhardt  coolly ;  "  but  we 
shall  take  the  Marienkastel." 

"  I've  got  an  idea,"  said  Trafford  musingly. 

"  Out  with  it !  " 

"  Give  me  twenty  men  and  twenty  minutes,  and  I'll 
turn  those  fellows  out  of  the  bob-run — or  my  name's 
not  George  Trafford." 

"  Choose  your  men  and  choose  your  moment,"  he 
said,  flashing  a  glance  at  his  companion,  "  but  remem- 
ber that  time  presses." 

"  I  am  ready  now,"  said  Trafford,  his  face  alight 
with  enthusiasm.  "  Any  twenty  men  will  do,  provided 
they  are  good  ski-ers  and  know  which  end  of  a  rifle 
goes  off." 

Bernhardt  gave  the  order  for  twenty  men  of  the 
Guides  to  attach  themselves  under  Trafford. 


GLORIA 

"  When  you  hear  a  bugle-call  push  on  with  all  your 
strength,"  said  the  latter ;  "  and  if  you  take  Saunders 
prisoner  deal  gently  with  him." 

Making  a  detour  in  order  to  take  all  available 
cover,  Trafford  led  his  men  towards  the  starting  point 
of  the  bob-sleigh  run.  His  movement, — hidden  by  the 
configuration  of  the  ground, — was  unnoted  by  the  gar- 
rison, nor  did  he  meet  with  any  opposition  on  his  way. 
The  hum  of  the  curling-stones  led  him  on,  and  as  he 
drew  nearer  the  stentorian  shouts  of  the  "  skippers," 
a,s  they  sung  out  encouragement  to  the  different  mem- 
bers of  their  sides.  When  he  reached  the  top  of  the 
Jiill  where  the  run  commenced  he  found  himself  look- 
ing down  on  to  a  frozen  pond,  whereon  a  number  of 
sunburnt  men  were  plying  brooms  in  front  of  a  slither- 
ing curling-stone. 

"Sweep,  boys,  sweep!"  yelled  out  Major  Flannel. 
*'  Bring  it  all  the  way !  It'll  be  a  *  Jimmy  Hobbs  ' 
when  it  stops.  Up  besoms,  lads !  It's  drawn  the  port ! 
Thank  you,  Hobbs — it's  a  beauty — right  on  the  pot 
lid.  Man,  you're  a  curler !  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  Trafford  interrupted,  de- 
scending on  to  the  ice,  and  saluting.  "  I  am  sorry  to 
interrupt  your  pastime." 

Major  Flannel  looked  up  and  surveyed  the  intruder, 
whose  approach  had  been  completely  unnoticed  by  the 
engrossed  enthusiasts. 

Trafford  was  in  a  dark-green  uniform  with  a  sword 
at  his  side.  In  one  hand  he  bore  a  bugle,  and  in  the 
other  a  ski-ing  pole. 

What  this  warlike  figure  was  doing  on  the  curling- 


TRAFFORD    AND   THE    TRENCH       283 

rink,  and  why  it  should  address  him  in  faultless  Eng- 
lish was  a  mystery  to  the  worthy  Major.  Then  he 
noticed  that  the  high  snow  bank  behind  the  rink  was 
crowned  with  a  score  of  riflemen.  The  game  was 
suspended,  and  the  curlers  gathered  round  the  in- 
truder. 

"  Are  we  in  the  way  of  the  fighting? "  asked 
"  Sandy  "  Fraser. 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  replied  Trafford,  with  a  smile : 
"  but  all  the  same  it  is  my  painful  duty  to  interrupt 
your  game." 

"  But  we  don't  mind  war  risks,"  objected  the  Scot. 

"  So  I  have  been  told,"  said  Trafford ;  "  but  the  fact 
is  we  want  to  borrow  your  curling-stones." 

Mystification  of  the  profoundest  nature  showed  itself 
on  the  faces  of  the  curling  fraternity. 

"  You're  a  humourist,  sir,"  said  Fraser  at  length. 

"  Among  other  things,  yes,"  agreed  Trafford ;  "  but 
at  the  present  moment  I'm  in  deadly,  sober  earnest. 
We're  trying  to  take  the  Marienkastel,  but  Karl's  men 
are  holding  the  run,  and  unless  we  can  dislodge  them 
it'll  be  a  bloody  business  capturing  the  place.  I'm 
sorry  to  spoil  sport,  but  I  must  annex  your  curling- 
stones  in  the  name  of  Queen  Gloria — you'll  see  why  in 
a  minute." 

And  so  saying,  Trafford  gave  a  command  in  German 
to  his  men.  Instantly  they  jumped  down  on  to  the  ice. 

"  Each  man  take  a  stone  and  carry  it  up  to  the  top 
of  the  toboggan  run  !  "  he  called  out. 

There  were  only  sixteen  stones  to  the  twenty  men, 
so  four  men  were  perforce  inactive.  The  others  pro- 


284  GLORIA 

ceeded  to  carry  out  the  command  with  unquestioned 
discipline. 

"  Man,  man,"  expostulated  "  Sandy "  Fraser  sor- 
rowfully, "  you're  spoiling  a  gran'  match." 

But  Major  Flannel  took  a  fiercer  line  of  protest. 

"  What  the  blazes  are  you  doing,  sir?"  he  splut- 
tered, red  with  indignation.  "  This  is  my  rink,  and 
these  stones  are  mine  and  my  guests'." 

The  four  soldiers  who  had  had  no  stones  allotted 
them  began  to  handle  their  rifles  expectantly.  Traf- 
ford,  however,  checked  any  untoward  action  on  their 
part  with  a  curt  gesture  and  a  quick-flung  com- 
mand. 

"  Force  is  an  ugly  kind  of  argument,  gentlemen," 
he  said,  turning  to  the  two  "  skippers."  "  It  grieves 
me  exceedingly  to  have  to  appeal  to  it.  Please  do  not 
make  my  position  any  harder.  It  is  bad  enough  to 
spoil  the  sport ;  it  would  be  cruel  if  I  had  to  spoil  the 
sportsmen." 

Slowly  and  dimly,  but  nevertheless  surely,  the 
Major  began  to  perceive  the  hopelessness  of  arguing 
the  rights  and  wrongs  of  the  situation.  He  had  a  pro- 
found contempt  for  any  soldiers  except  those  of  his  own 
country,  but  a  saving  spark  of  common  sense  rescued 
him  from  the  tragic  folly  of  resistance. 

"  I'd  never  built  up  a  better  '  house '  in  my  life,"  he 
said  petulantly.  "  We  were  lying  *  two  stones  '  and 
with  another  shot  to  play  might  easily  have  been 
three." 

"  Be  careful  of  the  pink  stones  with  the  blue  ribbon 
on  the  handle ! "  Fraser  called  out  in  exaggerated 


TRAFFORD   AND   THE    TRENCH       285 

trepidation.  "  My  mother's  just  sent  them  to  me  as 
a  Christmas  present  from  Aberdeen." 

A  laugh  followed  this  fcally — good-humour  was 
restored. 

"  Gentlemen,"  called  out  Trafford,  "  mount  this 
snow  bank  here  with  me,  and  you  will  see  a  sight  that 
will  more  than  recompense  you  for  a  ruined  game  and 
the  possible  loss  of  your  curling-stones ! " 

So  saying,  Trafford  himself  mounted  the  snow  bank 
at  the  commencement  of  the  bob-sleigh  run.  The 
curlers  followed,  one  or  two  grumbling  still,  others  with 
a  belated  interest  in  the  fortunes  of  the  day. 

"  Now,  then,"  cried  Trafford  in  German,  to  his  com- 
mand, "  when  I  say  '  go,'  hurl  those  stones  down  the 
toboggan-run  !  All  together,  now — one,  two,  three, — 
go!" 

The  men  swung  back  their  granite  burdens  and  then 
hurled  them  with  all  their  force  on  to  the  shining  sur- 
face of  the  icy  track.  Swiftly  the  stones  glided  down 
the  sharp  incline,  gathering  pace  at  every  yard  of  their 
downward  course.  Round  the  first  bend  they  swept, 
banging  against  each  other  in  a  jostling  rush  of  irre- 
sistible momentum. 

"  That's  one  way  of  enfilading  a  trench,"  said  Traf- 
ford to  the  Major,  as  the  last  stone, — a  pink  one  with 
a  blue  ribbon, — swept  out  of  sight.  "  Shrapnel's  not 
in  it  with — Aberdeen  granite ;  "  and  raising  his  bugle 
to  his  lips  he  sounded  the  "  charge,"  clear  and  true. 

Then  it  was  that  the  curlers  had  compensation  for 
their  spoiled  sport.  The  whole  line  of  the  attack, 
Guides,  Sharpshooters,  and  Guards,  seemed  to  spring 


286  GLORIA 

into  being  out  of  the  snow,  and  hurl  themselves  in  a 
parallel  rush  towards  the  Marienkastel.  Bugles  blew 
wild  music  from  their  brazen  throats ;  "  Forwards ! " 
cried  officers  with  drawn  swords  to  their  men,  and 
"  Forwards ! "  the  men  cried  back  to  them  with  the 
deep- throated  joy  of  battle. 

"  Forwards !  "  shouted  Bernhardt,  pressing  with  the 
van,  reckless  of  personal  danger,  conscious  only  of  the 
possible  fear  of  others,  and  of  the  supreme  impor- 
tance of  pushing  home  the  present  attack  at  all 
costs. 

A  spluttering  volley  rang  out  from  the  enemy's  en- 
trenchment, but  scarce  a  man  of  the  attack  dropped. 
Nor  was  this  to  be  wondered  at:  Saunders*  men  were 
in  confusion.  A  curling-stone  weighs  about  sixteen 
pounds,  and  when  it  is  travelling  at  a  rate  of  forty 
miles  an  hour  is  almost  as  deadly  as  a  cannon-ball ;  nay, 
they  were  more  alarming  than  ordinary  shot  or  shell, 
for  they  were  visible,  and  the  men  who  might  have 
faced  the  unseen  death  struggled  frantically  to  avoid 
the  visual  peril  of  the  granite  avalanche.  There  was 
much  breaking  of  bones  and  crushing  of  ribs,  cries  of 
agony  and  groans  of  tribulation.  Rifles  went  off  at 
various  angles,  friends  grappled  with  friends,  and 
many,  pushed  on  by  the  weight  of  the  accumulated 
stones  and  the  press  of  writhing  limbs,  began  to  slither 
down  the  toboggan  track, — even  as  Frau  von  Bilder- 
baum  and  Von  Hiigelweiler  had  done  two  days  before. 
It  was  a  moment  of  torment  and  confusion,  a  moment 
when  loyalty  and  discipline  were  helpless  and  unavail- 
ing, a  moment,  indeed,  when  a  much  less  determined  at- 


TRAFFORD   AND   THE    TRENCH       287 

tack  would  have  prevailed  against  such  twisted  chaos 
and  dismay. 

"  The  Kastel's  ours ! "  cried  Trafford  enthusiastic- 
ally, as  Bernhardt's  force  swept  irresistibly  over  the 
toboggan  run  and  pressed  furiously  to  the  walls  of  the 
Schloss. 

"  Heaven  help  Saunders  now ! "  he  added,  a  swift 
fear  crossing  his  brain.  "  By  gad,  they're  bolting ! " 
he  cried  in  glad  surprise,  as  the  garrison  of  the  castle 
streamed  out  and  away  with  scarce  a  backward  glance, 
and  never  a  backward  shot  at  the  triumphant  enemy. 

"  That's  not  like  Robert  Saunders — but  I'm  glad, 
devilish  glad." 

"Congratulations,  sir!"  said  Major  Flannel,  shak- 
ing Trafford  warmly  by  the  hand.  "  I've  seen  a  bit  of 
fighting  in  my  day,  and  I've  seen  a  bit  of  sport,  but 
I've  never  seen  the  two  things  blended  so  harmoniously 
before  in  the  whole  course  of  my  existence." 

Trafford  returned  the  hand-grip,  but  waited  for  no 
further  compliments  from  the  enthusiastic  Major. 
Down  beneath  him,  riding  on  a  gun-carriage  pulled 
by  a  score  of  soldiers,  Gloria  van  Schattenberg  was 
mounting  the  slope  towards  the  long-forfeited  home  of 
her  ancestors.  And  with  bent  knees  and  trailing  pole 
Trafford  ski-ed  down  the  incline,  to  be  the  first  to  offer 
her  congratulations  on  her  victory. 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-EIGHT 

MEYEB   AT    WORK 

MEYER  had  not  disliked  the  battle  quite  so  much  as  he 
had  expected.  Karl's  winter  palace,  the  Brunvarad, — 
where  he  had  taken  up  his  headquarters, — was  suffi- 
ciently remote  from  the  danger  zone  to  allow  his  mind 
to  work  coolly  and  collectedly  on  his  master's  behalf. 
And  on  the  whole  he  almost  enjoyed  it.  Karl  was  with 
him,  silent,  almost  sulky  in  the  enforced  inactivity 
Fate  and  his  councillors  assigned  him.  He  would  have 
been  happier  in  the  trenches  handling  a  rifle,  or  sight- 
ing one  of  the  big  Creusot  guns  that  barked  defiance 
at  his  foes.  But  for  the  moment  circumstances  held 
him  in  the  little  room  where  Meyer, — with  a  big  map 
spread  before  him,  and  a  telephone  receiver  at  his  ear, 
— issued  the  brief  messages  or  despatched  the  brief 
notes  that  meant  so  much  to  the  issues  of  the  day. 

"  War  has  been  compared  to  the  game  of  chess," 
remarked  Meyer  during  a  brief  pause  when  the  tele- 
phone bell  was  silent,  and  no  aide-de-camp  rushed  in 
with  his  vital  message  from  the  front ;  "  and  if  the 
simile  is  trite  and  commonplace,  it  is  certainly  espe- 
cially applicable  in  this  case.  One  sacrifices  piece  for 
piece,  a  pawn  for  a  knight,  a  knight  for  a  castle,  and 
so  forth,  and  he  who  ultimately  has  the  best  of  the 
exchange  has  an  easy  victory  at  the  finish.  In  our 

288 


MEYER   AT   WORK  289 

case  we  are  sacrificing  a  castle — the  Marienkastel — 
for  a  Queen.  When  the  enemy's  Queen  is  hors-de-com- 
bat  they  can  make  but  a  poor  bid  for  victory." 

"  The  simile  will  bear  pressing  even  closer,"  said 
Karl  surlily,  "  for  by  the  rules  of  the  game  the  king 
can  only  move  one  step  in  any  direction."  And  with 
a  wave  of  his  hand  the  discontented  monarch  indicated 
the  four  walls  which  confined  his  activities. 

"  It  is  our  duty  to  prevent  you  from  being  check- 
mated, sire,"  returned  the  Commander-in-Chief.  "  Per- 
sonally, I  hold  fighting  a  coarse  sport,  and  am  well 
content  to  do  the  intellectual  part  at  the  end  of  the 
telephone." 

The  ringing  of  the  instrument  punctuated  his  re- 
mark with  singular  appropriateness. 

"  Well,  who  are  you  and  what  is  it?  "  he  demanded. 

"  I'm  Saunders,"  returned  a  voice ;  "  I'm  in  the 
abatis  in  the  churchyard." 

Meyer  glanced  round  at  the  clock.  It  pointed  to  the 
hour  of  twelve 

"  Then  you're  there  half  an  hour  too  soon,"  he  re- 
turned. 

"  Not  a  moment,  I  assure  you,"  came  the  reply. 
"  Trafford  sent  Major  Flannel's  curling-stones  hurt- 
ling down  the  bob-run,  and  spoilt  the  formation  of 
my  advance  guard.  In  the  confusion  they  rushed  us, 
and, — as  I  understood  you  did  not  want  us  to  be  wiped 
out, — we  bolted  manfully  for  the  abatis.  Here  we  are, 
and  here  we'll  remain  as  long  as  you  wish." 

"  And  what's  happening  in  the  Marienkastel? " 
asked  the  Commander-m-Chief. 


290  GLORIA 

*'  Bernhardt's  holding  it  in  force." 

"  And  his  guns  ?  " 

"  Are  being  slowly  dragged  up  the  snow  slope." 

"  How  long  will  it  take  to  get  them  in  position  ?  " 

"  At  least  an  hour.  The  sun  has  made  the  snow 
soft." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Meyer.  "  Stay  where  you  are, 
please,  till  further  orders,"  and  replacing  the  receiver 
he  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  Now,  sire,"  he  said,  "  the  King  can  move  more 
than  one  step  at  a  time." 

"  In  what  direction  ?  " 

"  The  Marienkastel."  ' 

They  left  the  Brunvarad,  Karl  leading,  by  the  great 
doorway  at  the  base  of  the  armoury  tower.  Here  a 
couple  of  horses  were  awaiting  them — big,  yellow, 
maize-fed  brutes,  raw-boned  and  angular,  but  service- 
able steeds  on  a  rough  path  or  a  frozen  highway. 

"  I  should  feel  a  little  happier  if  you  would  take  me 
into  your  complete  confidence,"  said  Karl  as  they  rode 
out  of  the  palace  courtyard.  "  So  far,  I  have  listened 
to  one-sided  conversations  on  the  telephone,  and  brusque 
orders  to  breathless  aides-de-camp,  but  I  hardly  know 
what  portions  of  Weissheim  are  still  mine  and  which 
are  Gloria's." 

"  The  enemy  have  taken  the  Marienkastel,  as  we  in- 
tended' they  should,  but — they  have  taken  ii  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  too  soon.  The  insufferable  Traf- 
ford, — who  saved  your  life  and  rent  your  kingdom, — 
has  the  subtlety  of  the  serpent  without  the  harmless- 
ness  of  the  dove.  He  enfiladed  Saunders5  trench  in 


MEYER    AT    WORK 

the  bob-sleigh  run  with  curling-stones,  and  in  the  con- 
fusion Bernhardt  rushed  the  Schloss." 

"  Cannot  we  re-capture  it?  "  asked  Karl.  "  I  should 
not  mind  leading  the  forlorn  hope." 

"  As  my  place  is  by  my  royal  master's  side,"  re- 
sponded Meyer  drily,  "  I  must  veto  the  suggestion  with 
all  the  authority  I  possess." 

"  Then  what  are  we  to  do  ?  " 

"  Employ  the  enthusiasm  of  others,  repress  our  own. 
Von  Hiigelweiler,  who  hates  Trafford  and  loves  Gloria, 
— and  therefore  would  like  to  destroy  them  both, — ia 
waiting  in  Drechler's  farm  at  the  top  of  Sanatorium 
Hill  with  a  park  of  howitzers.  When  he  gets  the  order 
the  mortars  will  talk.  The  distances  have  been  care- 
fully measured,  and  the  Marienkastel  may  already  be 
numbered  among  the  disappearing  relics  of  old  Grim- 
land." 

"And  the  Princess  Gloria?"  asked  Karl. 

"  Will  cease  to  be  an  effective  factor  in  Grimland 
politics." 

Karl  frowned.  He  had  been  ruthless  enough  in 
1904,  but  then  he  was  fighting  against  men.  He  was 
no  sentimentalist,  and  he  meant  holding  his  own, 
though  regiments  were  decimated  in  the  process,  and 
the  snows  of  his  beloved  Weissheim  were  stained  scar- 
let with  good  blood.  But  he  had  ever  had  a  soft  cor- 
ner in  his  heart  for  the  laughter-loving  Princess,  and 
his  spirits  sank  at  the  prospect  of  her  bright  young 
life  being  sacrificed  to  the  brutal,  senseless  Moloch  of 
civil  strife.  The  rough,  fierce  men  who  held  the  up- 
lands for  him  were  fair  game  for  powder  and  shot,  the 


GLORIA 

levies  of  the  plain  were  chair  a  cannon,  maybe;  but 
Gloria  von  Schattenberg  was  a  creature  of  too  delicate 
ilesh  to  be  maimed  by  live  shell  or  splintering  ma- 
sonry, and  his  manhood  revolted  at  the  gruesome  pros- 
pect. 

"  We  must  try  and  save  the  Princess,"  he  said  after 
a  minute's  silence. 

Meyer  said  nothing.  The  nearer  they  advanced  to 
the  scene  of  action  the  lower  his  spirits  fell.  The  sun 
was  high  in  the  cloudless  heavens,  and  the  distant 
mountains  reared  their  snowy  crests  against  a  blue  that 
was  astounding  in  its  intensity.  A  purple  haze  swam 
in  the  hollows  of  the  hills ;  the  buntings  twittered  in 
cheerful  chorus  amidst  the  dripping  pine  trees,  now 
that  their  song  was  broken  no  longer  by  the  crude 
music  of  the  cannons'  roar.  For  the  moment  Nature 
spoke  of  peace,  but  Meyer  knew  that  there  was  no 
peace.  There  was  a  pause  in  the  struggle,  a  lull  be- 
fore the  storm,  a  moment  when,  by  mutual  consent,  the 
hand-grip  was  relaxed,  preparatory  to  the  final  strug- 
gle when  one  combatant  or  the  other  would  be  forced 
ruthlessly  to  his  knees.  And  Meyer  in  his  room,  di- 
recting movements  from  a  distance,  was  a  very  different 
person  from  Meyer  within  striking  distance  of  a  mobile 
foe.  The  man  had  no  stomach  for  fighting.  His 
mouth  was  dry  and  his  pulses  drumming  a  craven 
melody  in  his  ears,  a  He  was  afraid,  and  he  was  pain- 
fully conscious  of  his  fear ;  but  although  his  suffering 
was  acute  his  brain  was  working  tolerably  well  behind 
the  half -shut  eyes. 

There  is  a  kind  of  cowardice  that  never  loses  its  self- 


MEYER   AT   WORK  293 

control  at  a  crisis,  just  as  there  is  a  kind  of  bravery 
that  never  keeps  it. 

A  turn  of  their  path  brought  them  into  the  main 
road  running  between  the  town  of  Weissheim  and  the 
Marienkastel ;  and  if  there  had  been  peace  in  the  out- 
look over  the  matchless  valley  of  the  Niederkessel  and 
amidst  the  high  sanctuaries  of  the  mountains,  there 
was  war  here  in  stern  evidence  and  grim  reality.  Up- 
ward pressed  the  troops  who  had  held  the  redoubts  of 
the  lower  town,  and  whose  presence  was  now  needed  on 
higher  ground.  Downward,  on  sleighs  painted  with 
the  red  cross  of  mercy,  progressed  those  who  had  suf- 
fered in  the  brief  defence  of  the  Marienkastel.  Karl 
and  his  General  saluted,  the  latter  with  no  softening 
of  his  cynical  features,  but  a  strange  numbness  of  his 
breast  that  was  fear  tempered,  perhaps,  with  mercy, 
certainly  with  horror.  A  couple  of  hundred  yards  up 
the  road  they  halted;  here,  within  easy  range  of  the 
Marienkastel,  but  protected  by  the  banked-up  snow 
at  the  side  of  the  road,  were  gathered  a  considerable 
number  of  soldiers  under  the  eye  of  General  von  Bilder- 
baum.  The  latter  advanced  and  saluted  as  soon  as  he 
saw  his  Sovereign^ 

"How  are  matters  progressing,  General?"  asked 
the  King. 

"  They  are  not  progressing,  sire,"  replied  the  Gen- 
eral bluntly.  "  We  are  doing  nothing,  while  the  enemy 
is  doing  much.  In  forty  minutes  their  guns  will  be  in 
position,  and  the  loyal  town  of  Weissheim  will  be  wiped 
off  the  map." 

"  Meyer  does  not  seem  to  have  bestowed  his  confi- 


GLORIA 

dences  very  widely,"  returned  Karl.  *'  I  have  only  just 
learned  that  there  is  a  battery  of  howitzers  waiting  to 
pound  the  Marienkastel  into  brick-dust.  Why  they  do 
not  commence  pounding  is  known  only  to  my  intelligent 
Commander-in-Chief." 

"  When  one  destroys  a  wasps'  nest,"  said  Meyer 
smiling,  "  it  is  wise  to  protect  oneself  against  the  in- 
mates. When  the  castle  becomes  untenable  Bernhardt 
and  his  men  will  buzz  out  in  a  thoroughly  bad  temper. 
Unless  this  road,  where  we  now  are,  is  held  strongly, 
there  is  nothing  to  prevent  them  taking  their  afternoon 
tea  in  the  Brunvarad." 

Karl  nodded;  despite  his  present  irritability  he  had 
considerable  faith  in  his  Commander-in-Chief.  Not  so 
old  Bilderbaum. 

"  What  about  these  howitzers  ?  "  he  asked  scornfully. 
""What  is  there  to  prevent  Bernhardt  rushing  them? 
Where  are  they  ?  tf 

"  They  are  in  a  very  safe  place,"  said  Meyer  with 
a  wave  of  his  hand  to  the  right.  "  If  Bernhardt  means 
to  storm  them  he'll  have  to  face  six  quick-firers  and 
two  hundred  riflemen  on  either  flank ;  also  he'll  have  to 
climb  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  soft  snow  without  a  stick 
of  cover  for  his  men.  Anyone  who  can  reach  those 
howitzers  may  keep  them  as  a  memento  of  a  warm  after- 
noon." 

"  And  who  is  in  command?  "  asked  the  still  uncon- 
vinced General. 

"  Von  Hiigelweiler,"  replied  Meyer. 

General  Bilderbaum  uttered  a  sonorous  oath  that 
•was  more  like  a  roar  than  an  expletive. 


MEYER    AT    WORK  295 

"  Hiigelweiler !  "  he  cried.  "  I  wouldn't  trust  him 
with  a  corporal's  guard.  He's  a  liar  and  a  traitor 
on  his  own  confession." 

"  He  is  probably  both,"  agreed  Meyer,  "  and  he  is 
also  a  bitterly  disappointed  man.  The  gentleman  for 
whom  his  hatred  is  being  nursed  is  now  in  the  Marien- 
kastel,  and  I  don't  think  you  need  have  any  anxiety  as 
to  the  accuracy  of  Von  Hiigelweiler's  guns." 

For  a  moment  Meyer's  calm  assurance  won  silence. 
The  troops  continued  to  arrive  from  the  lower  town 
and  take  their  appointed  positions  on  the  road  that 
led  to  Weissheim.  The  Commander-in-Chief  might  be 
making  mistakes,  but  if  so  they  were  not  the  errors  of 
a  stupid  mind.  Karl  began  for  the  first  time  to  ap- 
preciate the  true  merits  of  the  Jew's  scheme.  When 
the  invaders'  position  in  the  castle  was  rendered  un- 
tenable they  would  have  no  path  open  to  them  but  the 
one  by  which  they  had  come.  Then,  doubtless  having 
frittered  away  their  strength  in  vain  efforts  to  break 
through  to  Weissheim,  Meyer  would  deliver  a  crushing 
counter  attack  as  they  drew  off,  spent  and  shattered, 
down  the  hillside.  Von  Bilderbaum,  however,  failed  to 
see  things  with  the  same  eye  of  faith. 

"Why  doesn't  Von  Hiigelweiler  open  fire  now?"  he 
demanded. 

"  Because  he  has  not  received  the  order  to  do  so," 
Meyer  replied. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  persisted  Bilderbaum. 

Meyer's  eyes  contracted.  He  had  the  air  of  a  wise 
man  dealing  with  a  foolish  one;  and  when  he  spoke  it 
was  with  more  than  a  touch  of  impatience. 


"  The  enemy's  guns  are  now  half-way  up  the  hill," 
he  said.  "When  they  have  kindly  brought  them  the 
whole  way  we  shall  have  something  to  say  to  them." 

"  And  they  may  have  something  to  say  to  us,"  re- 
torted the  General. 

Meyer  shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  if  convinced  of  the 
hopelessness  of  trying  to  instil  intelligence  into  the 
other's  skull. 

"  If  I  were  you,"  went  on  Bilderbaum,  "  I  should 
send  a  couple  of  regiments  full  pelt  against  those 
guns.  We  might  bring  off  a  very  effective  ski-charge 
down  the  slope." 

"  And  lose  fifty  or  sixty  men,"  sneered  Meyer. 

"  It  would  at  any  rate  be  fighting.  At  the  present 
moment  we're  lowering  the  morale  of  our  troops  by 
palsied  inaction." 

"  If  General  von  Bilderbaum  were  in  supreme  com- 
mand of  his  Majesty's  forces,"  said  Meyer,  "  I  have 
no  doubt  that  the  battle  would  be  short,  sharp,  and  de- 
cisive— only  the  decision  would  not  be  in  our  favour." 

Von  Bilderbaum  flushed  scarlet.  He  was  essentially 
a  fighting  man,  with  the  fighting  man's  contempt  of 
the  Jew,  and  his  calculated  inactivity. 

Meyer's  gentle  gift  of  rudeness  pierced  his  thick 
skin  with  inflaming  venom.  A  sense  of  discipline  and 
the  presence  of  the  enemy  alone  restrained  him  from 
violence.  In  despair  he  turned  to  his  Sovereign. 

"  Have  I  your  permission  to  head  a  charge  against 
the  guns,  sire?  "  he  asked. 

But  Karl's  face  had  taken  on  a  new  look  of  decision. 

"  You  have  not,"  he  replied  firmly.    "  Any  fool  can 


MEYER   AT   WORK  297 

head  a  charge.  I  suggested  doing  so  myself  half  an 
hour  ago.  In  theory  I  am  a  King  and  you  a  General ; 
in  practice  we  are  pawns  in  Meyer's  game.  It  is  wisest 
to  accept  our  limitations,  and  only  to  move  when  and 
where  we  are  told.  If  I  can  submit,  Von  Bilderbaum, 
surely  you  can,  too." 

"  Your  Majesty's  words  are  very  touching,"  said 
Meyer  in  his  colourless  tones,  which  might  have  con- 
cealed the  profoundest  contempt  or  the  most  genuine 
feeling.  "  This  is  the  hour  of  the  savant,  of  the  pro- 
fessor of  'Kriegspiel,'  of  the  man  whose  brain  is  un- 
affected by  the  glamour  of  heroism  or  the  poetry  of 
shock  tactics.  The  hour  of  the  fighting  man  will  come 
later — your  hour,  Von  Bilderbaum — the  hour  of  big 
deeds  and  little  cunning,  of  personal  glory  and  the 
primordial  joy  of  destruction.  Believe  me,  General,  I 
envy  you  your  hour  more  than  you  grudge  me  mine. 
It  is  better  to  be  a  fighting  dog  than  a  pusillanimous 
old  fox." 

Bilderbaum  looked  his  superior  squarely  between  the 
eyes. 

"  You  were  a  fighting  dog,  yourself,  in  1904,"  he 
retorted. 

"  For  ten  minutes,"  sneered  the  Commander-iri- 
Chief. 

"  For  ten  very  useful  and  strenuous  minutes,"  main- 
tained the  General.  "  I  am  not  sure  that  I  am  not 
proud  of  serving  under  you.  I  am  quite  sure  that  it 
is  a  good  thing  for  his  Majesty  that  you  are  not  serv- 
ing under  me.'* 

Meyer  ignored  the  honourable  concession.     He  was 


298  GLORIA 

gazing  through  his  field-glasses  at  the  distant  guns, 
which  were  now  three  parts  of  the  way  up  the  hill. 

"  The  secret  of  military  success,"  he  murmured,  ex- 
tracting his  notebook  and  scribbling  something  in  it, 
"  is  to  strike  when  the  iron's  hot — not  before.  Give 
that  to  your  A.D.C.,  General,"  he  went  on,  tearing  out 
the  leaf  and  folding  it,  "  and  tell  him  to  take  it  in- 
stantly to  the  officer  in  command  of  the  howitzer  bat- 
tery on  Sanatorium  Hill.  The  moment  has  arrived  for 
destroying  the  wasps'  nest." 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-NINE 

NEWS    FROM    THE    CAPITAL 

THE  battle  of  Welssheim  was  a  very  small  affair, 
viewed  from  an  European  standpoint.  The  forces  en- 
gaged on  either  side  were  trivial,  and  the  issues  at 
stake  of  comparative  indifference  to  all  save  those  di- 
rectly concerned ;  and  yet  it  was  not  devoid  of  pictur- 
esqueness  in  its  incidents,  nor  even  of  academic  interest 
to  those  who  study  the  conduct  of  military  operations 
in  the  high  regions  of  deep  snow  and  zero  frosts.  The 
bombardment  of  the  Marienkastel  was  an  excellent  ex- 
ample of  concentrated  artillery  fire  on  a  mediaeval 
building,  of  the  efficacy  of  modern  explosives  on  ancient 
masonry,  of  the  superiority  of  iron  and  melinite  to 
stone  and  concrete.  Bernhardt's  gallant  attempt  to 
storm  the  destructive  battery  was  as  noble  in  its  way 
as  the  heroic  charge  at  Balaclava ;  its  failure  was  even 
more  pronounced.  He  returned  from  that  spirited  en- 
terprise with  half  his  men  and  a  rifle  bullet  in  his 
dangling  left  arm,  but  with  an  unbroken  spirit  and  un- 
tamed energy. 

The  Marienkastel  existed  no  longer  as  a  building. 
Its  halls  were  unroofed,  its  great  tower  but  dwarf  piers 
of  splintered  masonry.  The  position, — which  had  been 
captured  with  such  skill  and  gallantry, — had  been  but 
a  bait  in  the  enemy's  trap.  The  Marienkastel,  indeed, 
commanded  Weissheim,  but  Sanatorium  Hill  com- 

999 


300  GLORIA 

manded  the  Marienkastel.  The  ex-priest's  local  knowl- 
edge had  been  inferior  to  Meyer's,  and  that  inferiority 
spelt  the  difference  between  winning  and  losing  the 
battle. 

During  Bernhardt's  absence  on  his  desperate  effort 
to  spike  Von  Hiigelweiler's  mortars,  Trafford  had  been 
left  in  command  of  the  castle.  Finding  his  position  un- 
tenable and  his  losses  increasing  at  an  appalling  rate, 
he  drew  off  to  the  sheltered  ground  by  Major  Flan- 
nel's curling-rink.  Here  they  were  safe  from  attack, 
and  at  the  same  time  powerless  for  purposes  of  ag- 
gression. Gloria  was  with  him,  bitter  at  the  destruc- 
tion of  her  home,  sick  at  the  loss  of  her  followers, 
anxious  to  do  some  desperate  action  which  should  win 
back  their  lost  advantage. 

The  day  which  had  opened  with  triumph  seemed  des- 
tined to  close  in  shame.  A  man's  courage  was  in  her 
heart,  a  stubborn  pride  in  her  vigorous  blood,  but  the 
sight  of  the  wounded, — sufferers  for  her  ambition, — 
won  a  softer  mood,  and  she  hastened  to  give  comfort 
where  she  could  no  longer  arouse  enthusiasm.  At 
about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  Bernhardt  and  his 
remnant  entered  the  hollow,  which  Trafford  had  now 
put  in  a  position  of  defence.  The  ex-priest  looked 
round  at  the  entrenched  riflemen  and  the  guns  in  their 
snow  embrasures,  and  laughed  mockingly. 

"  On  what  can  you  train  your  guns  here  ?  "  he  asked, 
attempting  to  bind  his  wounded  arm  with  the  aid  of 
his  uninjured  member  and  his  strong  teeth. 

"  On  anyone  who  wants  to  play  a  game  on  Major 
Flannel's  rink,"  Trafford  replied,  tendering  his  as- 


NEWS    FROM    THE    CAPITAL  301 

sistance  for  the  stricken  limb.  "  Our  motto  for  the 
moment  is  *  defence  not  defiance.'  We  cannot  hurt 
the  enemy,  and  the  next  best  thing  is  not  to  let  him 
hurt  us." 

"  And  y  ou<  are  content  with  that  ?  "  asked  Bern- 
hardt  with  scorn. 

"  I  have  a  beautiful  nature,"  the  American  replied 
quietly,  "  and  I  accept  the  decrees  of  Providence  in 
a  chastened  spirit.  We  came  to  capture  a  town  and 
a  king,  and  we  have  captured — a  curling-rink!  Un- 
fortunately we  have  sent  the  curling-stones  down  the 
bob-sleigh  run,  so  we  are  unable  to  derive  much  benefit 
from  our  achievement." 

Bernhardt  looked  wonderingly  at  the  other. 

"  And  men  call  me  mad,"  he  said  after  a  pause. 

"  And  with  reason,"  retorted  Trafford.  "  You  are 
a  Napoleon  in  parvo,  a  man  who  desires  big  things 
quite  apart  from  their  intrinsic  value.  You  want  a 
kingdom  for  your  playground,  and  princes  for  your 
playthings ;  that  is  what  scientists  call  megalomania, 
and  I,  bad  taste.  There  are  better  things  at  hand  for 
the  normal  man :  a  wife  and  children  and  a  good  con- 
science." 

"  A  coward's  creed ! "  was  Bernhardt's  comment. 

"  Maybe,  but  mine." 

Bernhardt  tossed  his  head  in  despairing  amazement. 

"  To  think  that  you  of  all  men  should  sink  so  hope- 
lessly at  our  first  rebuff! — Trafford,  the  hero  of  the 
revolution,  is  no  better  than  a  craven ! " 

"  There  is  more  than  one  kind  of  cowardice,  Bern- 
hardt," rejoined  Trafford  without  heat;  "  and  I  admit 


302  GLORIA 

I  was  a  coward  in  the  Marienkastel,  when  the  shells 
dropped  and  buried  men  alive  under  tottering  walls. 
I  don't  think  I  was  ever  afraid  before,  but  then  I  had 
never  been  in  action  with — with  a  woman." 

"  But  '  perfect  love  casteth  out  fear,' "  mocked 
Bernhardt. 

"  Then  is  my  love  very  far  from  perfect,"  came  the 
ready  answer.  "  I  was  in  a  very  torment  of  anxiety. 
A  good  man  groaning  out  his  life  with  a  lump  of  lead 
in  his  breast,  and  a  broken  wall  across  his  legs,  is  bad 
enough,  but  she " — and  Traff ord  pointed  to  Gloria, 
who  was  engaged  in  tending  a  poor,  disfigured  wretch 
who  had  been  moved  from  the  stricken  castle — "  my 
God,  Bernhardt,  I  was  a  coward ! " 

"  Women  don't  feel  pain  as  much  as  men,"  said 
Bernhardt  brutally.  "  Our  anxiety  on  their  account  is 
a  purely  selfish  sentiment  based  on  the  lowest  instincts." 

"  Your  theory  would  be  preposterous  even  if  we 
were  animals,"  replied  Traff  ord.  "  As  applied  to 
humanity  it  is  blasphemy.  I  fancy  your  wound  hurts 
you." 

"  Aye,  my  wound  hurts  me — not  the  wound  in  my 
arm — I  don't  feel  that — but  the  wound  in  my  spirit. 
I  am  not  one  to  sit  down  under  defeat." 

"  Then  what  do  you  propose  to  do  ?  " 

"  Push  on  to  the  Brunvarad !  " 

"  And  play  Meyer's  game  for  him !  The  road  is 
held  with  every  rifle  and  quick-firer  they  can  cram 
into  it." 

"  We  can  get  through  at  a  price,"  said  Bernhardt 
between  his  teeth. 


NEWS   FROM   THE   CAPITAL          303 

"  I  don't  think  we  could  get  through  at  any  price," 
rejoined  Trafford  with  conviction.  "If  we  go  on  we 
are  beaten  men ;  if  we  stay  here  we  may  make  a  draw 
of  it." 

Bernhardt  uttered  an  exclamation  of  contempt. 

"  There  is  no  such  word  in  Girimland,"  he  said. 
"  We  either  win  victory  or  we  drain  the  cup  of  defeat 
to  its  dregs.  Are  we  to  return  to  the  good  loyal  town 
of  Weidenbruck  and  say,  '  We  have  lost  three  hundred 
men  and  a  dozen  guns;  we  have  not  captured  Weiss- 
heim,  nor  taken  Karl,  but  we  have  made  a  draw  of  it? 
Strew  garlands  in  our  path  and  deck  your  houses  with 
bunting,  for  we  have  escaped  total  destruction ! ' 

"  I  was  not  suggesting  returning  to  Weidenbruck,"  - 
said  Trafford. 

"Can  we  stay  here?  What  are  we  to  eat?  Where- 
are  we  to  sleep?  The  nights  are  far  from  warm  at 
these  altitudes.  To  sleep  out  of  doors  at  Weissheim. 
is  to  sleep  the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking.  If  we  can- 
not go  forward  we  must  fall  back  on  our  communica- 
tions at  Wallen.  The  hospitality  of  Major  Flannel's 
curling-rink  is  not  one  to  be  accepted  permanently. 

Trafford  was  silenced.  Events  had  landed  them  in 
an  impasse,  and  to  curse  the  whole  folly  of  the  expedi- 
tion was  alike  ignoble  and  unprofitable. 

It  might  have  been  wiser, — as  he  had  advocated  at 
Wallen, — to  have  abandoned  the  scheme  of  conquest, 
to  have  sought  the  joys  of  life  in  quiet  retirement 
from  the  scene  of  clashing  ambitions  and  frenzied  up- 
heavals; but  the  expedition  had  gone  on  to  its  fate 
and  he  had  gone,  consenting,  with  it.  And  things  be- 


804  GLORIA 

Ing  as  they  were,  Bernhardt's  logic  was  relentlessly 
true.  To  go  back  with  their  purpose  unfulfilled  was 
to  test  the  brittle  fabric  of  the  sullen  Weidenbruckers' 
allegiance  with  too  shrewd  a  strain.  And  if  they  could 
not  go  forward  they  must  go  back.  In  grim  per- 
plexity he  called  to  Gloria. 

<e  Is    it   worth   while   trying  to    force  the   road   to 
"  Weidenbruck  ?  "  he  asked  her. 

*'  If  you  had  been  tending  wounded  men,  you  would 
not  ask  such  a  question,"  she  replied  quietly. 

"  I  thought  the  Schattenbergs  rose  to  great  heights 
in  great  difficulties,"  sneered  Bernhardt.  "  If  we  are 
to  shirk  our  butcher's  bill " 

**  We  have  made  our  mistakes,"  she  interrupted. 
'"  Our  only  chance  is  for  them  to  make  theirs.  If  we 
stay  here  they  may  attack  us." 

"  Meyer  doesn't  make  mistakes,"  said  the  ex-priest, 
"  and  if  he  did  it  would  not  be  a  mistake  of  that  kind. 
If  we  stay  here  the  only  foes  that  will  attack  us  will 
be  General  Frost  and  Brigadier  Hunger;  against  such 
we  have  no  defence." 

'  "  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Traff ord,  "  that  to  go  for- 
ward is  madness,  to  go  back  madness,  to  stay  here  is 
madness ;  and  as  we  must  do  one  of  these  three  things, 
madness  is  our  portion.  Now  the  most  effective  kind 
of  lunacy  seems  to  me  to  stay  here  till  night- fall." 

"And  then  hazard  a  night  attack?"  questioned 
Gloria  hopefully. 

"Not  an  attack,"  rejoined  Trafford.  "Meyer  has 
very  sound  theories  of  defence,  and  his  searchlights 
are  sure  to  be  in  excellent  working  order.  No;  we 


NEWS    FROM    THE    CAPITAL  305 

must  drop  the  soldier  and  become  burglars.  Where 
a  thousand,  or  even  a  hundred,  would  fail,  half  a  dozen 
may  succeed;  and  the  object  of  our  burglary  must  be 
Karl.  If  we  can  secure  his  person  and  return  with  it 
to  the  capital,  we  shall  have  done  all, — or  nearly  all, — 
we  attempted.  Weissheim  is  loyal  to  an  individual  not 
a  dynasty,  and  Karl  in  the  Strafeburg  would  be  a  much 
less  attractive  person  than  Karl  in  the  Brunvarad." 

Bernhardt  laughed  softly. 

"  I  begin  to  have  hopes  of  you  again,"  he  said. 

Gloria  clapped  her  hands  excitedly. 

"  I  knew  you  would  find  some  way  out  of  the  diffi- 
culty ! "  she  cried.  "  There  is  no  such  thing  as  despair 
•with  you  in  our  counsels." 

"  I  am  fighting  for  a  high  stake,"  Trafford  replied. 
"  If  I  can  win  success  out  of  the  tangled  disorder  of 
our  fortunes  you " 

"  If  you  can  capture  Karl,"  she  interrupted,  "  I  am 
sure  there  will  be  no  political  objection  to  your  being 
— being  my  consort." 

•"  Only  personal  objections?"  he  hazarded. 

"  There  will  be  none,"  she  said,  "  I  swear  it.  You 
.are  a  most  gallant  and  resourceful  gentleman,  and 
I  might  search  my  kingdom  over  for  your  equal." 

Trafford  noted  the  genuine  enthusiasm  of  her  tones, 
And  nodded  grimly. 

"  You  are  what  they  call  a  *  throw-back,'  your 
Majesty,"  he  said.  "  You  should  have  lived  five  hun- 
dred years  ago,  in  the  age  of  joust  and  tourney,  when 
men  won  their  wives  by  driving  enormous  spears 
through  the  breastbones  of  their  less  muscular  rivals." 


806  GLORIA 

"And  you  are  of  the  Middle  Ages  too,"  she  coun- 
tered ;  "  jour  ideals,  like  mine,  go  back  to  the  early  days 
of  chivalry." 

"  The  days  of  the  rack  and  the  Iron  Maiden  ? 
No,  I  assure  you  that  with  all  my  faults  I  am  more  up- 
to-date  than  that.  Romance  is  a  fine  thing  on  paper, 
but  in  my  heart  of  hearts  I  would  win  my  soul's  desire 
with  a  gentle  wooing.  But  to  return  to  our  moutons: 
does  the  plan  I  have  outlined  commend  itself  to  my 
friend  Bernhardt  ?  " 

"  If  your  proposal  had  been  to  put  a  bullet  through 
Karl's  cranium  I  should  say  that  it  bordered  on  sanity," 
replied  Bernhardt.  "  But  even  that  would  be  difficult. 
Meyer  stands  or  falls  by  Karl's  supremacy — and  the 
Jew  is  not  a  man  to  let  his  position  be  forfeited  for 
want  of  forethought.  He  will  watch  over  Karl's  sacred 
person  as  a  mother  watches  over  her  first-born.  Still, 
we  might  scheme  an  attempt  for  stalking  the  royal 
stag." 

"  I  suggested  turning  burglar,"  said  Trafford.  "  I 
consider  that  a  sufficient  descent  in  the  social  scale, 
without  turning  murderer." 

'*  You  have  not  the  advantage  of  being  an 
absintheur,"  was  Bernhardt's  rejoinder.  But  at  this 
point  the  conversation  was  interrupted;  an  officer  of 
the  Guides  had  approached  and  was  standing  at  the 
salute. 

"  A  man  to  see  your  Excellency,"  he  began,  to* 
Bernhardt. 

"Where  from?" 

"  Weidenbruck." 


NEWS    FROM    THE    CAPITAL  307 

"His  name?" 

"  Dr.  Mattl." 

Bernhardt  whistled. 

"  His  business  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Private  and  confidential." 

*'  Hum !     Conduct  him  here,  please." 

A  moment  later  the  doctor  stood  before  them.  He 
was  arrayed  in  a  woollen  jersey,  with  a  Jaeger  scarf 
around  his  neck.  Grey-green  knickerbockers  and  yel- 
low putties  veiled  his  nether  limbs.  He  was  wearing 
smoked  glasses,  and  his  feet  were  shod  with  skis.  His 
head  was  bare,  and  his  hair  wet  and  tangled,  as  though 
it  had  had  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  snow. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  demanded  the  ex- 
priest. 

"  I  come  as  a  messenger  and  a  fugitive,"  replied  the 
doctor. 

"Your  news?" 

"  Weidenbruck  is  in  a  condition  of  anarchy.  You 
left  me  as  a  dictator,  but  you  deprived  me  of  a  dicta- 
tor's only  argument — force.  You  drained  the  city  of 
troops,  and  you  expected  me  to  impose  my  will  on 
that  turbulent  and  sinful  community.  My  will  was 
to  purify  the  stadt.  My  men  raided  the  gambling- 
houses  round  the  Goose-market;  they  harried  the  in- 
famous dens  of  the  H'ahngasse.  I  closed  the  Mailand 
Kurhaus  and  that  other  haunt  of  immorality,  the 
Augustus  Cafe.  For  forty-eight  hours  virtue  tri- 
umphed, and  the  worst  features  of  my  native  town 
began  to  disappear  with  exhilarating  rapidity.  Then 
the  forces  of  sin  and  debauchery  put  their  evil  heads 


308  GLORIA 

together,  and  the  reaction  began.  My  police  were 
suborned.  The  cry  was  raised  that  a  worse  tyranny 
than  Karl's  had  been  inaugurated.  Rumours  that  Karl 
was  holding  his  own  and  more  began  to  be  disseminated 
in  the  capital.  It  was  whispered  that  guilty  relations 
had  been  established  between  the  young  Queen  and  the 
accursed  American.  There  was  a  riot.  I  called  out 
the  soldiers,  but  they  were  too  few  and  not  over  willing. 
The  people  who  had  hounded  Karl  from  his  throne 
cheered  his  name  in  the  same  streets  where  they  had 
sought  his  blood.  I  am  no  coward,  but  I  was  appalled. 
To  calm  the  tempest  would  have  needed  an  army 
corps." 

"  Or  Father  Bernhardt,"  interrupted  Trafford. 

"  Anyway,  I  fled,"  the  doctor  resumed,  "  because  I 
saw  how  imperative  it  was  that  you  should  return  as 
soon  as  you  had  won  your  victory." 

"  And  left  the  city  to  anarchy  ?  "  put  in  Gloria. 

"  I  left  the  sons  of  worthlessness  to  their  own 
confusion." 

"  Dr.  Matti,"  said  Bernhardt,  "  you  are  one  of  those 
amiable  beings  who  have  theories.  If  you  had  amused 
the  Weidenbruckers, — or  even  let  them  amuse  them- 
selves,— all  might  have  been  well.  Instead,  however, 
you  tried  to  turn  them  into  angels, — a  role  which 
Providence  has  not  assigned  to  any  community  east  of 
Berlin." 

"  I  meant  well " 

"  That  is  what  I  complain  of,"  interrupted 
Bernhardt. 

"  But  the  situation  is  only  temporarily  serious,"  in- 


"I  drink  to  our  success  to-night,  I  drink  to  the 
devil  in  the  devil's  own  tipple" 


309 

terposed  the  hapless  doctor.     "  When  you  have  cap- 
tured Weissheim " 

"  When  we  have  captured  Weissheim,"  said  Trafford. 
"  Unfortunately  we  are  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  fur- 
ther from  Weissheim  than  we  were  two  hours  ago. 
And  two  hours  hence  we  shall  very  probably  be  further 
still." 

"  Good  heavens !     You " 

"  We  are  like  you,  Dr.  Matti,"  went  on  Trafford. 
"  We  have  had  a  failure ;  like  you,  we  over-rated  our 
own  skill  and  under-rated  our  enemies'.  The  situation 
is  bad." 

Matti  was  silent,  but  his  big,  plebeian  features 
showed  plainly  the  disappointment  and  consternation 
of  his  mind.  The  short  winter  day  was  winning  to  its 
close.  Already  the  sun  was  falling  behind  the  great 
wall  of  the  distant  mountains ;  already  the  snows  of  the 
Klauigberg  were  flushing  rose-pink  against  the  green- 
ing turquoise  of  the  cloudless  sky.  A  chill  had  crept 
into  the  air,  the  surface  of  the  curling-rink, — which 
had  been  wet  under  the  sun's  mid-day  power, — was  now 
as  slippery  as  a  polished  mirror.  In  an  hour  it  would 
be  dark,  and  with  the  dark  would  come  the  intense  cold 
that  meant  death  to  all  that  failed  to  find  a  night's 
shelter. 

"  It  is  time  we  fell  back  towards  Wallen,"  said  Bern- 
hardt  to  Gloria.  "  I  and  TrafFord  will  stay  behind 
with  a  few  trusty  spirits.  If  all  goes  well  we  will  join 
you  to-morrow  morning." 

"  I  am  going  to  stay  behind  too,"  said  Gloria 
quietly.  "  Colonel  Schale  can  conduct  the  retreat." 


310  GLORIA 

"  I  too  will  stay  behind,"  said  Dr.  Matti.  "  I  am 
further  from  Weidenbruck  here  than  at  Wallen." 

Bernhardt  looked  at  the  doctor's  heavy,  determined 
features,  and  nodded. 

"  We  four,"  he  muttered.  "  It  is  enough !  My 
wound  burns  like  fire;  the  cold  has  got  into  it,  and  it 
will  mortify.  To-morrow  Dr.  Matti  can  remove  the 
gangrened  limb." 

Matti's  professional  instincts  were  roused  by  the  last 
words. 

"You  are  wounded?"  he  said.  "You  had  best  let 
me  remove  the  bullet  at  once."  He  produced  from  his 
person  a  small  bottle  containing  a  colourless  fluid.  "  I 
was  prepared  for  emergencies  of  this  nature.  A  whiff 
of  chloroform " 

"  To  the  devil  with  your  anaesthetics ! "  cried  Bern- 
hardt hotly.  "  My  brain  is  wanted  to-night ;  my 
brain,  Herr  Doctor,  not  a  fuddled  mass  of  drugged 
cells  and  inert  tissue !  Take  out  the  bullet  if  you  will, 
but  don't  imagine  I  shall  flinch  under  the  knife.  There 
is  no  pain  that  I  can  feel  but  the  pain  of  disap- 
pointment." 

"  But  a  mere  whiff,"  began  the  worthy  doctor. 

"  Do  as  he  bids,"  said  Trafford,  taking  the  bottle 
from  Matti's  hand  and  putting  it  for  safety  into  his 
pocket.  "  That  may  come  in  useful  later.  But  I 
should  take  out  the  bullet,  if  you  can,"  he  whispered; 
"  there  is  a  queer  look  in  his  eyes,  and  I  fancy  the 
pain  is  making  him  light-headed." 

"  Come,  cut  out  the  little  lump  of  lead,  doctor,"  said 
Bernhardt,  "  the  little  messenger  that  meant  so  much 


311 

harm  and  achieved  so  little.  Cut  deep,  Matti,  and  do 
not  stint  the  knife.  Only  leave  me  my  right  arm  and 
my  brain;  for  to-night  there  will  be  great  doings  be- 
tween the  dusk  and  the  dawn.  Aye,  Bernhardt,"  he 
went  on,  talking  to  himself,  "  you  must  rise  to  great 
heights.  There  will  be  friends  to  help  you — a  mad 
Yankee,  a  Puritan  doctor,  and  the  last  of  the  Schat- 
tenbergs.  A  strange  trinity!  Nor  must  I  forget  my 
good  councillor  Archmedai.  He  must  be  very  near  me 
to-night.  Herr  Trafford,  I  have  a  flask  at  my  belt; 
it  is  difficult  for  me  to  undo  it  with  one  hand.  Kindly 
assist  me.  A  thousand  thanks!  I  drink  to  our  suc- 
cess to-night,  I  drink  to  the  devil  in  the  devil's  own 
tipple.  Death  to  Karl!  Joy  to  Trafford  and  his 

bride!     And  to  Bernhardt "  he  tossed  down  a  full 

measure  of  his  beloved  absinthe — "  to  Bernhardt  I 
drink  " — his  speech  thickened  and  his  eyes  wandered 
vaguely  over  the  group.  He  drank  again — "  To 
Bernhardt  I  pledge — the  great  unknown ! " 


CHAPTER  THIRTY 

BECEUITS 

BY  the  fireplace  of  the  great  hall  of  the  Brunvarad  Karl 
was  standing  with  his  two  Generals,  Meyer  and  Von 
Bilderbaum.  It  was  six  o'clock,  and  with  the  falling 
of  night  a  thin  haze  of  clouds  had  swept  up  from 
Austria,  and  a  mist  of  fine  snow  was  descending  with 
silent  persistence  on  hill  and  roof,  rink  and  run,  on  the 
inviolate  forts  of  Meyer's  planning,  and  on  the  bat- 
tered remains  of  the  Marienkastel.  Within  the  palace 
abundant  electric  light  and  blazing  logs  lent  cheer- 
fulness to  the  great  stone  walls  of  the  chamber,  and  the 
huge  dark  beams  that  spanned  them.  On  the  men's 
coats  were  rapidly  diminishing  tokens  of  the  storm 
without. 

"  I  have  to  thank  you  for  your  congratulations," 
Karl  was  saying  as  he  shook  the  snow  from  his  cap 
into  the  spluttering  flame,  "  and  to  thank  you  more 
especially  for  the  efforts  which  have  rendered  those 
congratulations  applicable." 

Von  Bilderbaum  tugged  nervously  at  his  huge  white 
moustache. 

"  I  had  so  little  to  do,  sire,"  he  protested.  "  If  I 
had  headed  a  ski  charge " 

"  You  would  probably  not  be  here  to  receive  my 
thanks,"  interrupted  Karl  with  a  kindly  laugh  and  a 
hand  laid  roughly  on  the  old  General's  shoulder.  "  I'm 
sure  Frau  von  Bilderbaum  will  agree  with  me,  that 

312 


RECRUITS  SIS 

Meyer's  tactical  passivity  was  superb.  Meyer,  again 
I  thank  you.  You  have  served  me  well." 

"  My  motives  for  doing  so  were  so  obvious,"  drawled 
the  Commander-in-Chief.  "  Had  Bernhardt  won  I 
should  probably  have  been  shot;  certainly  exposed  to 
danger  and  hardships.  As  it  is,  I  shall  sleep  well  to- 
night in  a  comfortable  room,  with  the  pleasing  convic- 
tion that  your  Majesty's  gratitude  will  ultimately  take 
a  tangible  form." 

Karl  laughed  heartily.  His  eye  was  very  bright,  and 
the  burden  of  many  years  seemed  taken  off  his  wide 
shoulders. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  he  said,  "  I  sometimes  pity  my 
dear  cousins  of  Germany  and  England,  who  rule  over- 
united  and  contented  kingdoms.  I  have  my  anxieties, 
God  knows,  but  I  also  have  my  compensations.  Fair 
weather  is  a  pleasant  thing,  but  it  is  the  storm  that 
distinguishes  the  friend  from  the  parasite." 

The  great  bell  of  the  Brunvarad  clanged,  and  a 
minute  later  Bomcke  announced  Robert  Saunders  and 
his  wife. 

"  We  come  to  offer  your  Majesty  our  congratula- 
tions," said  Saunders. 

Karl  took  the  Englishman's  hand,  and  held  it  in  & 
firm  grasp. 

"  You  are  a  lucky  man,"  he  said  with  a  glance  at 
Mrs.  Saunders'  radiant  cheeks.  "  You  possess  the 
silver  of  friendship  and  the  gold  of  love.  I  have  only 
friendship,  and  therefore  I  prize  the  lesser  metal  at  a 
great  value.  If  this  day  is  the  turning-point  of  my 
fortunes,  and  I  become  King  again  of  a  whole  country,, 


314  GLORIA 

I  shall  not  esteem  my  happiness  complete  unless  my 
friend,  Robert  Saunders,  is  my  right-hand  man." 

"  Your  Majesty's  fortunes  are  assured,"  said 
Saunders.  "  The  enemy  is  half-way  back  to  Wallen 
by  now." 

"And  is  being  pursued?"  asked  Karl. 

"  Von  H'iigelweiler  begged  leave  to  harry  them,"  said 
Meyer,  "  and  he  is  harrying  them  to  such  purpose  that 
they  have  shed  their  guns  one  by  one  in  their  flight. 
Had  it  not  been  for  the  snow-storm  he  might  have  cap- 
tured a  hundred  or  two  prisoners." 

"  I  think,"  said  Karl,  "  we  will  not  push  our  victory 
further.  We  have  won  the  day,  and  there  has  been 
sufficiency  of  bloodshed.  To-night  I  am  a  happy  man, 
and  I  wish  no  one  ill.  Meyer,  give  orders  for  Von 
Hiigelweiler  to  be  recalled.  He  has  done  his  work  well, 
and  he  shall  have  his  reward." 

Meyer  withdrew  with  a  shrug  to  the  room  where  the 
telephone  was  installed. 

"  It  is  good  to  see  your  Majesty  happy,"  said  Mrs. 
Saunders  in  the  silence  that  followed  Meyer's  departure. 
"  There  has  sat  a  cloud  on  your  brow  ever  since  we 
have  been  in  Grimland.  And  to-night  for  the  first  time 
the  cloud  is  gone,  and  there  is  sunshine — the  old  sun- 
shine of  1904 — in  your  face." 

"  Aye,  I  am  happy,"  assented  Karl  with  a  smile, 
"  happy  in  my  friends." 

"  Here  comes  another  happy  person,"  said  Saunders 
with  an  upward  glance  to  the  staircase,  down  which  the 
spacious  person  of  Frau  von  Bilderbaum  was  slowly 
descending. 


RECRUITS  315 

"  Truly  spoken,"  said  Karl,  for  as  the  ex-maid-of- 
honour  caught  sight  of  her  lord  and  master  she  quick- 
ened her  footsteps  to  a  bovine  canter,  and  hurled  herself 
enthusiastically  on  to  the  General's  breast. 

"  My  brave,  brave  Heinrich !  "  she  gasped. 

"  Not  at  all,  at  all ! "  murmured  the  warrior,  disen- 
gaging himself  gently  from  the  overpowering  embrace. 
"  I  have  done  literally  nothing.  Now,  if  there  had  been 
a  ski-charge " 

At  this  moment  Meyer  returned  from  the  telephone. 

"  I  have  sent  to  recall  Hiigelweiler,"  he  said ;  "  but 
I  must  say  I  think  the  policy  of  mercy  is  being  over- 
done. My  forbears  of  Palestine  were  not  half  so  kind 
when  they  got  the  Amalekites  on  the  run." 

"  We  are  not  dealing  with  Amalekites,"  said  Karl, 
"  but  with  Grimlanders,  who  happen  to  be  our  fellow- 
countrymen.  But  come,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  let  us 
eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,  for  the  storm  is  over  and  the 
sun  is  already  gleaming  through  the  thin  edges  of  the 
cloud-wrack." 

"  I  am  not  a  weather  prophet,"  said  Meyer,  "  nor 
did  Providence  assign  to  me  a  sanguine  temperament. 
We  have  hit  the  enemy  hard,  and  we  have  drawn  most 
of  his  teeth,  but  until  Bernhardt's  dead  body  is  dis- 
covered stiffening  in  the  snow  I  have  no  intention  of 
celebrating  a  decisive  victory." 

"  Don't  do  so,  then,  dear  raven,"  laughed  Karl,  "  but 
at  least  take  food  for  your  strength's  sake.  At  any 
rate,  I  hear  that  Bernhardt  was  wounded  in  the  attack 
on  Sanatorium  Hill." 

"  A  wounded  tiger  is  not  a  particularly  innocuous 


316  GLORIA 

beast,"  returned  the  Commander-in-Chief,  "  and  there 
is  i  a  certain  friend  of  Herr  Saunders  who  has  the  un- 
pleasant gift  of  rising  superior  to  difficulties,  and  whom 
I  fear  is  not  even  wounded." 

The  meal  at  the  Brunvarad  was  neither  very  long 
nor  very  festive.  Meyer's  taciturn  refusal  to  admit 
premature  victory  had  a  distinctly  damping  effect  on 
the  spirits  of  the  company.  Noises  of  revelry  and 
jubilation  were  audible  from  the  world  without,  feux  de 
joie,  rockets,  songs  of  carousal  and  bursts  of  cheering 
broke  in  on  the  desultory  conversation  that  flowed 
fitfully  round  the  royal  dining-table.  But  these  sounds 
of  jubilation  only  brought  a  deeper  frown  to  the  fea- 
tures of  Von  Bilderbaum,  an  added  sneer  to  the  lips 
of  the  Commander-in-Chief;  even  the  King  began  to 
lose  the  exaltation  that  had  so  illumined  his  counte- 
nance. 

"  The  Weissheimer  is  in  his  element  to-night,"  said 
Meyer.  "  He  believes  himself  a  hero,  and  will  get  most 
heroically  drunk.  If  Bernhardt's  retreat  is  only  a  ruse, 
• — as  I  suspect, — he  will  return  in  the  small  hours  and 
capture  a  town  guarded  by  fuddled  swine." 

"  Is  there  no  discipline  in  my  army?  "  asked  Karl 
irritably. 

*'  Very  little  just  at  present,"  was  Meyer's  cool  reply. 
"  Our  friends  have  stood  by  us  at  a  pinch ;  it  is  too 
much  to  expect  them  to  keep  sober  when  the  danger  is 
apparently  over." 

Karl  rose  angrily  to  his  feet. 

"  And  are  we  to  assume,"  he  demanded,  "  that  the 
garrisons  of  our  redoubts  are  drunk  at  their  posts  ?  " 


RECRUITS  317 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Meyer ;  "  they  are  drunk  in 
the  streets  and  taverns  of  Weissheim." 

"  Then  I  am  going  where  my  men  ought  to  be,"  said 
Karl.  "  If  we  can  gather  a  sufficient  body  of  sober 
men  to  hold  Redoubt  A,  we  can  at  least  foil  any  attempt 
of  Bernhardt's  to  rush  the  town  in  the  dead  of  night." 

"  An  admirable  idea,"  said  Meyer  rising  with  the 
others,  "  and  one  which  I  was  going  to  suggest  myself. 
I  can  manage  a  searchlight,  and  Von  Bilderbaum  can 
train  a  mitrailleuse,  and  Herr  Saunders  can  order  a 
company  of  riflemen — if  he  can  find  them." 

"  Come,"  said  Karl,  making  towards  the  door,  "  let 
us  waste  no  time !  " 

"  Your  Majesty,"  said  Mrs.  Saunders,  speaking 
with  some  hesitation,  "  this  morning  I  asked  my  hus- 
band to  let  me  accompany  him  to  the  Marienkastel. 
He  refused,  and  with  reason.  But  there  is  no  danger 
in  your  quest  to-night.  I  am  not  asking  you  to  let 
me  help  guard  the  redoubts,  but  to  use  a  woman's  in- 
fluence in  obtaining  recruits  for  your  garrison." 

"  Bravely  spoken !  "  said  Karl.  "  Wrap  yourself  well 
in  furs,  dear  lady,  and  come  with  us.  Bilderbaum  can 
swear,  and  Meyer  can  sneer,  but  a  beautiful  woman  can 
compel  by  surer  means." 

"  If  Frau  Saunders  goes,  I  will  go  too,"  said  the 
wife  of  General  Bilderbaum.  "  I  will  shake  these 
drunken  soldiers  into  a  sense  of  discipline,  or  I  am  not 
the  wife  of  the  bravest  soldier  in  your  Majesty's  army." 

The  party  of  six  sallied  forth  into  the  night.  The 
snow  had  ceased  falling,  and  the  haze  of  clouds  had 
drifted  southwards,  leaving  the  black  dome  of  night 


318  GLORIA 

clean  and  clear  and  jewelled  with  the  steely  brilliance 
of  the  winter  stars.  Through  the  courtyard  they 
strode,  over  the  squeaking  snow,  past  the  sentinels  in 
their  black  and  yellow  boxes  with  their  charcoal 
braziers,  past  the  great  piers  of  the  entrance  with  their 
fantastic  caps  of  overhanging  snow,  and  as  they  went 
the  sounds  of  revelry  assailed  their  ears  with  louder 
note. 

"  Dissipation  is  the  better  part  of  valour,"  was 
Meyer's  sneering  comment,  as  the  refrain  of  riotous 
song  floated  on  the  thin  air.  "  It  is  so  easy  to  be 
brave  when  the  red  wine  is  well  within  range,  and  the 
ammunition  of  the  bier-halle  is  inexhaustible." 

In  the  road  were  groups  of  men,  soldiers  and  civilians, 
with  linked  arms,  reeling  gait,  and  a  gift  for  making 
the  night  hideous  with  tuneless  song. 

Within  fifty  yards  of  the  palace  a  bonfire  had  been 
kindled,  and  round  its  ruddy  flames  a  wild  dance,  a 
veritable  carmagnole  of  drunken  triumph,  was  in  prog- 
ress. Here  the  royal  party  stopped  to  watch,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  they  were  recognised. 

"  Hail,  Karl  the  Twenty-second  of  Grimland ! " 
cried  a  big-bearded  man  in  a  military  overcoat.  "  Long 
live  our  gallant  King !  " 

"  Three  cheers  for  Karl ! "  cried  another,  a  burly 
form  well  muffled  in  a  gigantic  green  ulster.  "  Death 
to  the  revolutionaries  !  " 

Karl  saluted  gravely. 

"  Your  sentiments  are  admirable,  sirs,"  he  said.  "  It 
v.-ould  be  perhaps  even  nobler  if  you  put  them  into 
practice." 


RECRUITS 

"  I  have  been  in  the  firing-line  all  day,"  answered  the 
first  speaker,  "  and  Bernhardt  and  his  men  are  two 
leagues  from  here  by  now." 

"  They  may  not  be  so  in  the  small  hours  of  the 
morning,"  said  Meyer.  "  If  they  take  it  into  their 
heads  to  return,  they  will  have  an  easy  task  to  over- 
come an  army  of  sots." 

The  dance  had  ceased  for  the  moment.  The  ma- 
jority stood  at  a  little  distance  from  the  royal  party, 
ashamed  to  pursue  their  orgy,  but  resentful  of  its  in- 
terruption. Two  other  figures,  however,  arm  in  arm, — 
as  if  to  steady  their  unruly  footsteps, — joined  the 
group.  One  of  them, — a  small  man  with  a  big  blonde 
moustache, — was  clad  in  the  uniform  of  a  private.  The 
other  was  wrapped  in  a  sheepskin  overall  and  had  a 
woollen  helmet  pulled  down  over  his  ears  and  chin. 
The  latter  raised  a  guttural  voice  in  husky  protest. 

"  It  is  hard  if  we  cannot  celebrate  your  Majesty's 
victory  in  our  own  way !  "  he  hiccupped.  "  A  glass  or 
two  of  wine  hurts  no  man  on  a  cold  night  like  this." 
He  steadied  himself  against  the  small  soldier. 

"  Frantz  will  be  all  right  in  half  an  hour,"  said  the 
bearded  one  confidently.  "  He  has  had  but  two  or  three 
cups  of  Kurdesheim,  and  his  head  is  not  over-strong. 
A  few  more  dances  round  the  bonfire  and  he  will  be  as 
sober  as  any  of  us." 

"  Look  here,  my  merry  gentlemen,"  said  Meyer. 
"  You  seem  to  me  to  be  only  partially  drunk,  and  a 
brisk  walk  down  to  the  forts  would  probably  render 
you  tolerably  sober.  If  you  will  stand  by  us  to-night 
and  help  us  guard  the  town  till  daylight  you  shall 


320  GLORIA 

be  drunk  for  a  week  on  end  at  the  King's  expense — 
J[  swear  it  on  the  honour  of  a  Jew." 

"  That's  well  spoken,"  said  the  bearded  man  pen- 
sively. "  I  like  to  get  jolly  now  and  again,  but  I  don't 

want  to  see  those  d d  Weidenbruckers  stealing  a 

march  on  us  when  we're  in  our  cups.  I'm  for  the 
King,  I  am,  and  to  the  devil  with  the  Schattenbergs ! " 

"  But  to-morrow  there  will  be  no  sport  afoot,"  ob- 
jected the  man  in  the  green  ulster,  "  and  to-night  there 
will  be  grand  fun  in  the  '  Drei  Kronen  '  and  outside  the 
JVfeierei." 

A  murmur  of  agreement  came  from  the  others. 

•"  They  say  they're  going  to  burn  Father  Bernhardt 
in  effigy,"  said  the  fellow  in  the  woollen  helmet,  "  and 
that  there  will  be  free  beer  at  the  '  Drei  Kronen.'  The 
beer  at  the  '  Drei  Kronen  '  is  good — very  good." 

It  was  Mrs.  Saunders  who  spoke  next. 

**  I  think  these  men  are  quite  right,"  she  said  coolly. 
**  They  have  probably  seen  a  little  fighting  from  a  dis- 
tance, and  are  quite  satisfied  with  that.  They  evidently 
prefer  the  smell  of  beer  to  the  smell  of  gunpowder,  and 
would  be  quite  useless  if  there  was  serious  work  to  do 
in  the  forts." 

"What's  that?"  demanded  the  bearded  man,  in  a 
sudden  access  of  indignation.  "  We  afraid !  My 
father  was  a  soldier,  and  so  was  my  grandfather,  and 
I  have  served  his  Majesty  twelve  years  come  Michael- 
mas, and  one  doesn't  serve  twelve  years  in  the  army  of 
Grimland  without  learning  something  about  ball  cart- 
ridges. Afraid!  Bah!  I'd  sooner  spend  a  night  in 
the  trenches  potting  at  old  Bernhardt  and  his  friends 


RECRUITS  321 

than  drink  the  best  brandy  in  the  cellars  of  the 
Brunvarad." 

"  An  admirable  sentiment,"  said  Meyer,  "  but  one  not 
apparently  shared  by  your  comrade  in  the  green 
ulster." 

"  Oh,  I  like  fighting  well  enough,"  replied  the  in- 
dividual in  question,  "  only  it  is  cold  work  doing  sentry- 
go  when  there's  no  enemy  within  six  miles  of  you." 

"  For  shame !  "  cried  Mrs.  Saunders.  "  Is  your  idea 
of  military  service  the  mere  excitement  of  fine-weather 
fighting?  Is  not  duty  among  your  ideals  as  well  as 
glory?  We  so  far  mistrust  this  retreat  of  Bernhardt's 
that  we  are  going  to  Redoubt  A  to  watch  against  any 
return  of  the  rebuffed  Weidenbruckers.  Must  we  go 
alone, — four  men  who  are  wearied  with  long  hours  of 
anxiety  and  ceaseless  activity,  and  two  women  who  have 
never  handled  a  rifle  in  their  existence?  Is  that  your 
creed  of  loyalty,  your  standard  of  a  soldier's  honour?  " 

"  Rudolf,"  said  the  man  in  the  ulster  to  the  gen- 
tleman with  the  beard,  "  we  must  accompany  our  good 
sovereign  and  his  friends  to  the  fort.  The  lady  is  right. 
Duty  is  duty,  and  the  beer  of  the  *  Drei  Kronen  '  can 
wait.  I  would  have  liked  a  dance  outside  the  Meierei, 

but "  here  he  wiped  an  eye  with  the  sleeve  of  his 

ulster — "  I  am  a  man  of  honour — and  the  beer  will 
keep." 

"  Forward  then  !  "  said  Meyer,  striking  while  the  iron 
was  hot.  "  Down  the  hill  to  Redoubt  A,  and  gather 
what  recruits  we  can  in  the  name  of  duty — and  post- 
poned beer." 


CHAPTER  THIRTY-ONE 

"  A    SURPRISE  " 

ONWARD  they  tramped  in  silence  down  the  road  towards 
the  lower  town,  and  as  they  went  the  half-moon  pushed 
its  gleaming  disc  through  the  melting  curtain  of  cloud, 
and  made  of  the  night  a  frozen  picture  of  fantastic 
beauty.  To  their  right  the  snows  of  the  Trau-altar 
and  Eizenzahn  streamed  in  silver  floods  towards  the 
glistening  plain,  where,  a  full  thousand  feet  below,  the 
village  of  Riefinsdorf  proclaimed  itself  with  cheerful 
points  of  golden  light. 

The  sounds  of  revelry  grew  distant,  and  the  silence 
of  the  sleeping  hills  made  itself  felt.  It  was  a  prospect 
of  unreal  beauty,  a  duo-tone  of  violet-black  and  fairy 
silver,  an  impression  of  eerie  shadows  and  unearthly 
light. 

Saunders  and  his  wife  walked  hand  in  hand.  The 
day  had  brought  them  very  close  together,  and  they 
were  well  content.  Soon  a  shuffling  sound  was  heard, 
and  a  turn  of  the  road  disclosed  a  body  of  troops  on 
skis  ascending  the  hill  from  the  opposite  direction.  The 
King's  party  halted  in  the  middle  of  the  way,  and 
Meyer  accosted  the  officer  at  their  head. 

"Who  are  you,  sir?"  he  asked. 

"  Fifteenth  Light  Infantry,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  am 
Captain  Lexa,  and  we  are  returning  from  pursuing  the 
enemy,  according  to  orders." 

322 


"A   SURPRISE"  323 

Meyer  cast  his  eye  over  the  officer's  command. 
There  seemed  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  to  two  hundred 
riflemen,  of  whom  a  good  score  bore  tokens  of  recent 
fighting.  A  few  serious  cases  were  covered  with  rugs, 
and  were  being  pulled  on  small  sleighs.  A  further 
inspection  disclosed  a  number  of  prisoners  in  the  centre, 
with  hands  roped  behind  their  backs. 

"  You  got  into  touch,  I  see,"  Meyer  pursued. 

"  We  pressed  them  closely,"  answered  the  Captain, 
"  and  at  first  so  eager  was  their  retreat  that  they 
abandoned  all  their  guns  one  after  another.  Further 
away  they  rallied,  and  though  they  continued  to  re- 
treat, they  easily  held  us  at  bay,  and  went  off  at  their 
own  pace." 

"  Do  you  think  they  mean  coming  back  ? "  asked 
Karl. 

"  No,  sire.  When  we  got  orders  to  retufn  they 
were  six  or  seven  kilometres  beyond  Riefinsdorf;  and 
though  we  waited  and  watched  them  for  at  least  half 
an  hour,  they  continued  to  increase  the  distance,  till 
they  were  lost  to  sight  in  the  gloom  and  the  snow." 

"  They're  not  the  right  stuff,  those  Weidenbruckers," 
said  Von  Bilderbaum.  "  They  can  only  play  a  win- 
ning game.  I  don't  think  we  shall  see  their  faces  again 
this  winter." 

"  But  what  of  Von  Hiigelweiler?  "  demanded  Meyer. 
"  He  was  in  command  of  the  pursuit.  Has  he  been  hit 
by  the  enemy  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Then  why  in  heaven's  name  does  he  not  return 
with  you?  "  persisted  the  Commander-in-Chief.  "  Has 


GLORIA 

he  been  loyal  for  long  enough  to  one  side  ?  Or  does  he, 
like  Cato,  prefer  to  espouse  the  losing  side?  " 

Captain  Lexa  hesitated. 

"  I  think  he  was  mad,"  he  said  at  length.  "  When 
your  aide  brought  the  order  of  recall,  Captain  Hiigel- 
weiler  swore  that  he  had  been  sent  to  pursue  and  would 
continue  to  pursue  as  long  as  his  legs  carried  his  body, 
and  his  arms  a  rifle.  The  aide  backed  his  orders  with 
the  King's  name,  but  Hiigelweiler  harangued  his  men 
and  bade  all  such  as  loved  the  good  game  of  war  follow 
him  to  the  bitter  end.  An  impossible  position  was 
created,  and  the  aide-de-camp  ordered  Von  Hiigel- 
weiler's  arrest.  Before,  however,  the  order  could  be  put 
into  execution,  the  mutinous  captain  was  ski-ing  down 
a  steep  snow  slope  in  the  direction  of  the  enemy." 

"  You  should  have  fired  on  him,"  said  Bilderbaum. 

"  I  gave  the  order,  sir,  but  the  men  hesitated.  Some 
of  them  had  served  with  him  earlier  in  the  day,  when  he 
had  displayed  the  most  reckless  courage.  Besides,  his 
refusal  to  halt,  seeming  rather  an  excess  of  gallantry 
than  an  act  of  mutiny,  touched  their  imagination,  and 
the  few  shots  that  rang  out  left  him  unscathed.  Then 
the  aide-de-camp,  losing  his  patience,  snatched  a  rifle 
from  one  of  my  units,  knelt  down  in  the  snow,  and 
brought  down  the  Captain  with  a  well-directed  shot." 

"And  was  he  killed?"  asked  Saunders  not  un- 
feelingly. 

"  I  think  so.  If  not,  he  is  dead  by  now,  for  he  was 
badly  hit,  and  the  frost  does  not  spare  a  man  when  he 
is  bleeding  from  an  open  wound." 

"  Captain  Lexa,"  said  Karl,  "  you  seem  a  capable 


"A   SURPRISE"  325 

and  zealous  officer,  but  your  task  is  not  over  yet.  It 
may  be, — as  you  and  General  von  Bilderbaum  think, — 
that  the  Weidenbruckers  have  had  enough  hammering 
for  a  season,  and  have  no  intention  of  returning.  But 
Meyer  thinks  otherwise,  nor  am  I  one  to  leave  matters 
to  chance.  Bernhardt  is  a  madman  who  is  not  subject 
to  the  ordinary  influences  of  disaster.  His  lieutenant, 
Trafford,  is  a  man  of  exceptional  ability  and  resource. 
They  are  not  likely,  in  my  opinion,  to  acquiesce  in  a 
discredited  return  to  the  capital." 

"  They  cannot  be  back  at  Weissheim  for  some  hours 
yet,  sire,"  said  the  Captain. 

"  I  know.  But  our  men  are  debauched  with  victory. 
They  are  out  of  hand.  They  have  done  their  day's 
work,  and  they  want  to  enjoy  the  price  of  their  labours. 
You,  Captain,  seem  a  sober,  honest  soldier  with  a  firm 
hold  over  your  command.  Can  I  trust  you, — when  you 
have  rested  your  men  and  seen  to  their  rations, — to 
return  in  an  hour's  time  to  Redoubt  A  to  watch  with 
us  against  a  surprise  attack  from  our  enemies  ?  " 

"  You  may  trust  me  to  the  death,  sire,"  said  the 
young  officer  with  emotion,  "  and  for  every  man  of  my 
command  whom  I  fail  to  bring  to  the  redoubt  I  will 
forfeit  a  year's  promotion." 

"  Well  spoken,  Captain  Lexa,"  said  Karl  with  a 
smile.  "  While  there  are  men  like  you  in  my  army 
I  can  never  despair  of  my  fortunes." 

The  King  and  his  little  party  stood  at  the  edge  of 
the  road  while  the  regiment  resumed  its  upward  prog- 
ress. Lithe,  sunburned  men,  untired  by  the  long  day's 
•work,  they  glided  swiftly  by,  one  and  all  saluting  as 


326  GLORIA 

they  passed  the  royal  presence,  and  ultimately  breaking 
into  a  shrill  cheer  as  they  vanished  up  the  zig-zagging 
road. 

"  Thank  God  for  brave  men ! "  said  Karl  simply, 
when  they  had  gone. 

"  We  shall  not  need  our  friends  here  after  all,"  said 
Saunders,  referring  to  the  quartet  they  had  enticed 
from  the  festive  bonfire. 

"  Aye,"  said  the  man  with  the  beard.  "  You  may 
want  us  yet.  They  are  gallant  fellows,  those  soldier 
lads,  but  they  will  be  tempted  up  yonder,  and  the  true 
Grimlander  ever  meets  temptation  half  way." 

"  They  will  not  fail  me,"  said  Karl,  whose  optimism 
seemed  to  have  returned  in  full  force.  "  My  fortunes 
have  turned,  and  I  have  no  fears  of  their  staunchness." 

"  Still  it  would  be  prudent  to  take  these  gentlemen 
with  us,"  said  Meyer.  "  Lexa  and  his  men  may  be 
late,  and  there  will  be  plenty  for  them  to  do." 

"  Oh,  we  are  coming,"  pursued  the  bearded  man. 
*'  I,  too,  believe  Bernhardt  means  returning,  and  I 
would  give  ten  years  of  my  life  to  put  a  bullet  through 
his  wicked  skull.  As  for  the  Princess  Gloria,  I  would 
not  spare  that  wanton  little " 

"  Hush,  man !  "  interrupted  Karl.  "  The  Princess  is 
a  relative  of  mine." 

"  Aye,  and  one  to  be  proud  of ! "  went  on  the  man 
defiantly.  "  They  say  that  she  and  the  American 
Trafford " 

"  Never  mind  what  they  say,"  said  Karl  sternly. 
"  The  Princess  is  a  wild,  irresponsible  girl,  but  she  is 
as  free  from  grossness  as  the  snows  of  the  Eizenzahn." 


"A   SURPRISE"  327 


"  They  say  --  " 

"  Silence  !  "  thundered  Karl  passionately,  raising  an 
arm  as  if  to  strike  the  speaker  across  the  mouth.  "  I 
have  known  her  since  she  was  a  tiny  child,  and  though 
she  has  rebel  blood  in  her  veins,  she  is  as  clean  and 
wholesome  as  a  Weissheim  night." 

"  Your  Majesty  is  generous,"  said  Von  Bilderbaum. 

"  Maybe,"  assented  Karl,  "  but  I  think  we  all  share 
the  same  fault  where  the  Princess  Irresponsible  is  con- 
cerned. I,  who  have  seen  her  grow  from  a  beautiful 
child  into  a  lovely  woman,  have  still  a  soft  corner  in  my 
heart  for  her;  even  when  her  schemings  were  most 
alarmingly  successful  I  could  never  summon  hate  to 
my  aid  in  my  battle  against  her.  And  to-night,  when 
fortune  smiles  upon  me,  I  could  wish  to  take  her  small 
hand  in  mine  and  read  her  a  lesson  on  the  iniquity 
of  trying  to  dethrone  one's  first  cousin  once  re- 
moved." 

"  Your  Majesty  is  sentimental,"  said  Meyer. 

"  It  is  natural  to  be  so  on  such  a  night  as  this," 
was  the  Kind's  reply.  "  This  still,  deep  cold  should 
freeze  the  cynicism  even  out  of  your  nature.  If  the 
Princess  fights  she  must  be  fought,  and  she  must  accept 
the  fortune  of  war.  But  when  this  half-tipsy  ruffian 
casts  aspersions  on  her  purity  -  " 

"  Hear,  hear  !  "  broke  in  the  man  in  the  green  ulster. 
"  Shoot  the  Princess  if  necessary,  but  spare  her  good 
name.  I,  in  my  humble  way,  am  a  great  admirer  of 
the  pretty  little  Gloria.  She  has  an  eye  that  laughs, 
and  as  sweet  a  pair  of  lips  as  a  poor  carpenter  like  me 
may  dare  clap  eyes  upon.  The  devil  I  want  to  harry 


328  GLORIA 

is  the  American  Trafford,  who  mixes  up  with  matters 
that  don't  concern  him,  and  brings  fire  and  sword  into 
a  poor  country  that  has  plenty  of  troubles  already. 
We've  vermin  of  our  own,  goodness  knows,  but  this 
foreign  weasel " 

But  Karl  was  in  a  mood  to  hear  ill  of  no  man.  He 
was  convinced, — as  he  said, — that  his  fortunes  had 
turned.  His  natural  generosity  was  in  the  ascendant, 
and  the  magic  of  the  glorious  night  had  won  him  to  a 
temper  of  broad  benevolence. 

"  Oh,  Trafford,"  he  laughed,  "  Providence  watches 
over  men  like  that.  They  take  risks  and  thrive  on  them. 
The  bullet  is  not  moulded  that  will  pierce  his  tough 
American  skin;  and  I  rejoice  to  think  it  is  so,  for  he  is 
a  most  fascinating  free  lance.  He  saved  me  from  death 
in  the  courtyard  of  the  Neptunburg,  and  I  have  not 
forgotten  the  debt.  Given  a  state  of  peace,  and  I 
would  have  him  as  my  guest  in  the  Brunvarad  to  discuss 
old  battles  over  my  best  Tokay." 

They  had  reached  the  place  where  the  bob-sleigh 
track  crossed  the  highway, — a  point  of  the  run  much 
dreaded  by  the  steersmen  of  racing  crews. 

"  If  we  follow  the  path  that  borders  the  run,"  said 
the  bearded  man,  "  we  shall  save  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
at  least." 

"  That's  true,"  said  Meyer,  "  but  the  ladies  must  be 
careful  where  they  plant  their  feet.  If  they  step  off 
the  beaten  track  they  will  be  up  to  their  waists  in  soft 
snow." 

"  There  is  a  moon,"  said  the  man  in  the  ulster 
curtly,  climbing  over  the  snow  bank  and  leading  the 


"A   SURPRISE" 

way  along  the  firm  but  narrow  track.  The  others 
followed  in  single  file,  and  for  a  time  nothing  was  heard 
but  the  crunching  of  snow  beneath  their  feet.  For  a 
space  their  progress  lay  among  pine-trees,  through 
whose  black  trunks  and  freshly-silvered  branches  the 
moonlight  streamed  in  rays  of  elfish  light.  With  its 
mysterious  shadows  and  sharp  silences  the  wood  seemed 
a  vast  natural  treasure  house,  wherein  the  frost  jewels 
gleamed  with  rich  profusion  and  the  strange  radiance 
of  an  enchanted  dreamland.  To  walk  with  open  eyes 
in  such  scenes  was  to  lose  touch  with  reality,  to  forget 
the  sway^  and  swirl  of  things  material,  the  harsh  ab- 
surdities of  Grimland's  civic  strife.  No  wonder  a  silence 
fell  on  the  pacing  line. 

The  awakening  was  rude.  As  they  emerged  from 
the  many  pillared  sanctuary  of  the  forest  there  was  a 
loud  cry  of  "  Now ! "  Someone,  a  man  in  a  woollen 
helmet,  threw  a  cloak  around  Karl's  head  and  shoulders  ; 
someone,  a  man  with  a  thick  beard,  struck  Saunders- 
heavily  in  the  face,  so  that  he  fell  back  from  the  firm 
path  into  the  yielding  depth  of  the  untrodden  snow- 
At  the  same  moment  Von  Bilderbaum,  hastening  to  the 
King's  rescue,  was  tripped  up  by  the  man  in  the  green 
ulster,  and  measured  his  length  violently  on  the  hard 
path.  Meyer,  quick  as  thought,  whipped  out  a  re- 
volver and  fired  point  blank  between  the  shoulders 
of  Bilderbaum's  assailant.  Frau  von  Bilderbaum 
screamed,  and  in  her  emotion  stepped  off  the  firm  path 
and  disappeared  backwards  into  a  sea  of  incohesive 
crystals.  Before  Meyer  had  time  to  fire  again  a  man 
was  at  his  throat,  a  man  with  a  beard  hanging  gro- 


330  GLORIA 

tesquely  from  one  ear,  a  man  with  mad  passion  in  his 
eye  and  a  nameless  oath  on  his  lips. 

"  Bernhardt ! "  gasped  Meyer,  fighting  with  the 
frenzy  of  a  terror-stricken  man.  His  assailant  was  his 
superior  in  weight  and  vigour,  but  fortunately  for  the 
Commander-in-Chief  had  but  the  use  of  -one  arm.  Nev- 
ertheless, the  arm  that  fought  him  was  a  limb  of  steel, 
the  fingers  of  the  sound  member  as  relentless  as  the 
tentacles  of  a  devil  fish.  The  Jew  sweated  and  strug- 
gled like  a  man  in  a  nightmare.  For  a  moment,  choked 
and  breathless,  he  was  overborne;  then  relief  came. 
Bilderbaum  had  regained  his  feet;  the  old  soldier's 
sword  was  drawn  from  its  scabbard,  and  the  ex-priest 
hissed  his  last  shuddering  blasphemy  into  the  night 
air. 

"  Robert,  Robert,  are  you  hurt  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Saun- 
ders,  in  dire  distress,  of  her  struggling  spouse,  who  was 
making  heroic  efforts  to  wade  through  the  waist-deep 
snow  to  the  terra  firma  of  the  trodden  path. 

"  Karl — quick !  "  urged  the  breathless  Englishman, 
at  length  making  his  voice  heard  now  that  the  struggle 
was  terminated. 

They  looked  where  Karl  had  been — and  there  was 
no  one.  The  man  in  the  woollen  helmet,  too,  had  dis- 
appeared, and  the  short  individual  in  the  private's  uni- 
form was  likewise  nowhere  to  be  seen. 

"  A  bob-sleigh," — explained  Saunders,  still  short  of 
breath,  regaining  with  assistance  the  coveted  foothold 
of  the  path, — "  they  pushed  him  on  to  a  bob-sleigh 
which  was  anchored  to  the  bough  of  a  fir-tree.  The 
little  soldier  man  took  the  helm,  and  the  other  sat 


"A    SURPRISE"  331 

guarding  the  King  with  a  revolver  in  one  hand  and  the 
brake-lever  in  the  other." 

"  After  them ! "  cried  old  Bilderbaura  excitedly,  let- 
ting go  his  wife's  hand  so  that  she  relapsed  again  into 
the  treacherous  quagmire  of  mocking  powder.  "  After 
them!" 

"  After  them ! "  repeated  Meyer  scornfully,  rubbing 
his  bruised  throat.  "  We  might  do  an  heroic  eight 
miles  an  hour  down  this  slippery  path.  They  will  be 
going  forty,  at  least.  We  might  as  well  chase  the 
moonbeams ! " 

"  What  are  we  to  do  ?  "  asked  Saunders  desperately. 

"  That  is  a  question  that  fools  always  ask  them- 
selves when  their  folly  finds  them  out,"  returned  Meyer 
bitterly.  "  Unfortunately  there  is  no  answer  to  it." 


CHAPTER  THIRTY-TWO 

THE    CONQUERING    KING 

"  BRAKE  ! "  called  a  high  feminine  voice,  issuing 
strangely  from  the  moustached  lips  of  the  soldier  who 
steered  the  abducting  bob-sleigh. 

The  gentleman  in  the  woollen  helmet  applied  the 
brake,  and  a  sharp  turn  in  the  run  was  negotiated  in 
safety. 

"  How  is  Karl?  "  asked  the  Princess  Gloria,  for  it 
was  she  who  was  manipulating  the  wheel  at  the  "  bob's  " 
prow. 

"Coming  to,  I  think!"  Trafford  shouted  back; 
"  this  cold  air  would  restore  a  corpse." 

They  were  in  the  straight  now,  and  the  pace  was 
terrific.  Downward  they  tore  through  realms  of  icy 
air,  while  the  night  wind  pushed  at  their  throats, 
brought  floods  of  moisture  to  their  eyes,  and  roared 
a  wild  melody  in  their  deafened  ears.  It  was  an  ex- 
hilarating experience,  and  even  without  the  added 
excitement  of  their  desperate  deed  would  have  set  the 
blood  racing  in  their  veins.  But  with  the  excitement 
was  mingled  a  very  definite  sense  of  shame,  in  Trafford's 
case  at  any  rate.  Their  action  had  been  justified  by 
success,  and  morally,  perhaps,  by  its  absolute  necessity 
in  their  desperate  plight,  but  it  painfully  resembled 
an  act  of  treachery. 

"  What  became  of  Father  Bernhardt  and  Doctor 
Matti  ?  "  asked  Gloria  presently. 

332 


THE    CONQUERING    KING  333 

Trafford  leaned  forward  and  answered  at  the  top  of 
his  voice: 

"  They  must  have  been  killed !  Our  weight  started 
the  *  bob  '  before  I  intended,  and  we  were  a  hundred 
yards  down  the  track  before  I  could  get  my  hand  to 
the  brake.  It  was  impossible  to  go  back." 

"  Will  they  catch  us,  do  you  think?  " 

"  Impossible !  We  are  travelling  at  the  rate  of  an 
express  train.  Another  twenty  minutes  of  this,  and 
we  shall  reach  the  point  where  Colonel  Schale's  flying 
detachment  has  arranged  to  wait  for  us." 

For  a  while  they  travelled  without  further  speech, 
save  when  an  imperious  "  Brake ! "  from  the  Princess 
indicated  that  the  pace  must  be  checked  in  order  for 
a  corner  to  be  rounded  without  mishap. 

Under  the  stone  viaduct  of  the  railway  they  flew, 
winding  in  and  out  of  pine  woods,  sometimes  catching 
a  glimpse  of  the  golden  lights  of  Riefinsdorf,  and 
sometimes  of  the  moonlit  ivory  of  the  mighty 
Klauigberg. 

"  You  are  sure  that  Father  Bernhardt  and  Dr.  Matti 
must  have  been  killed  ?  "  asked  Gloria  at  length. 

"  Without  reasonable  doubt.  They  have  gone  to 
their  long  homes,  which,  according  to  all  theory,  should 
be  widely  separated.  That's  as  may  be.  The  man 
I'm  sorry  for  is  poor  Karl,  who  was  feeling  really  happy 
till  I  clapped  the  drugged  antimacassar  over  his 
head." 

Trafford  waited  to  hear  his  sentiments  echoed,  but 
Gloria  said  nothing.  Her  silence  pained  him ;  under  the 
circumstances  it  seemed  ungenerous.  i 


334  GLORIA 

Then  occurred  something  which  cannot  be  verbally 
described, — so  far  as  the  sensations  of  the  three  human 
beings  were  concerned;  for,  to  be  suddenly  checked  in 
a  lightning  descent  and  hurled  incontinently  into  deep 
snow,  produces  a  complexity  of  emotions  incapable  of 
being  recorded  through  the  medium  of  ink.  What 
happened  to  the  bob-sleigh  is  a  matter  of  more  precise 
fact.  The  front  part  struck  violently  against  some 
hard  object,  the  steering  runners  were  wrenched  round 
at  right  angles  to  the  body  of  the  sleigh,  the  whole 
thing  skidded  viciously  on  the  ice,  and  finally  buried 
its  nose  in  the  flanking  wall  of  snow. 

"Are  you  hurt,  Gloria?"  called  out  Trafford  from 
his  couch  of  crystals,  as  soon  as  he  had  sufficient  breath 
to  frame  the  question. 

There  was  no  answer.  Within  a  few  yards  of  him 
Karl  was  sitting  up  with  an  expression  of  dazed  be- 
wilderment that  was  almost  comic  to  behold.  Trafford 
rose  and  made  his  way  with  infinite  difficulty  to  the 
run.  Discovering  his  revolver  lying  by  the  side  of  the 
track,  he  picked  it  up  and  examined  it.  It  was  unin- 
jured and  the  cartridges  still  undetonated. 

"Gloria!"  he  called. 

"  Yes — I'm  all  right,"  came  a  voice  somewhere  from 
the  neighbourhood  of  Karl.  "  I'm  only  a  bit  shaken. 
I  couldn't  answer  before.  I  hadn't — any — breath." 

"  No  bones  broken  ?  "  he  persisted. 

"  None  whatever.     What  happened  ?  " 

Trafford  was  peering  thoughtfully  at  the  track. 

"  Curling-stones,"  he  answered  laconically.  "  When 
we  enfiladed  Saunders'  trench  we  sent  Major  Flannel's 


THE   CONQUERING   KING  335 

stones  on  a  long  journey — but  not  long  enough,  it  ap- 
pears. There  has  been  a  small  avalanche  of  snow- 
across  the  track,  due,  I  presume,  to  the  vibration  of 
the  guns.  This  held  the  stones  up  in  the  middle  of  the 
fair-way.  We  might  have  ploughed  through  the  snow, 
but  the  granite  smashed  us." 

"  What's  to  be  done?  "  asked  the  Princess  after  a 
pause. 

Trafford  stepped  over  the  snow-bank  and  examined 
the  "  bob."  The  runners  were  twisted  and  half 
wrenched  from  the  wooden  framework.  The  steering- 
wheel  was  jammed,  and  refused  to  respond  to  the  most 
strenuous  efforts  ;  the  brake-lever  was  snapped  off  short. 

"  The  midnight  express  doesn't  run  any  further,"  he 
said. 

"  What  on  earth  are  we  to  do  ?  " 

He  answered  her  question  with  another. 

"  How's  Karl?  " 

The  outraged  monarch  replied  in  person. 

"  I  am  tolerably  well,  thank  you,"  he  said.  "  I  have 
been  conscious  for  some  time,  and  have  listened  with 
some  amusement  to  your  commiserations  of  my  lot. 
The  little  catastrophe  which  has  just  occurred  has  dis- 
pelled the  last  lingering  fumes  of  the  chloroform  with 
which  you  rendered  me  Tiors  de  combat" 

Trafford  said  nothing,  but  knitted  his  brows  in  per- 
plexed thought. 

"  We  are  face  to  face  with  a  very  serious  problem," 
he  said  after  a  full  minute's  meditation.  "  Gloria,  are 
you  sufficiently  recovered  to  join  me  on  the  path  here, 
or  shall  I  come  and  help  you  out  of  the  soft  snow?  " 


S36  GLORIA 

"  I  will  come  to  you,"  she  answered,  suiting  the  action 
to  the  word,  and  ploughing  her  deep  way  to  his  side. 
The  blonde  moustache  had  parted  company  with  her 
fair  lips,  and  her  fallen  shako  had  released  a  charming 
disorder  of  dark  tresses.  In  her  great  overcoat,  her 
nether  extremities  concealed  in  the  snow,  she  looked  once 
more  what  she  really  was, — a  young  girl  of  singularly- 
fascinating  aspect. 

"  We  can't  stay  here  all  night,"  she  said,  when  she 
had  won  her  way  to  the  path,  "  and  we  cannot  well 
reach  the  spot  where  Colonel  Schale  is  awaiting  us." 

Trafford  shook  his  head. 

"  Assuming  we  could  walk  so  far,"  he  said,  "  and 
assuming  our  friend  over  there  would  consent  to  ac- 
company us,  we  should  be  overtaken  by  the  pursuit 
party  they  are  bound  to  send  after  us." 

"  It's  all  hopeless,"  she  said  wearily. 

"  You  have  lost  confidence  in  my  ability  to  help  you 
out  of  difficulties  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  are  resourceful — indomitable  almost,"  she  con- 
ceded, "  but  you  cannot  fight  Fate." 

"  I  am  not  trying  to." 

"  But  I  am.  Had  it  not  been  for  this  wretched  mis- 
hap everything  would  have  been  splendid;  we  should 
Jhave  returned  to  Weidenbruck  with  Karl  our  prisoner. 
J  should  have  been  firmly  established  on  my  throne,  and 

you "  she  broke  off  suddenly  and  added  a  little 

sadly :  "  As  it  is,  we  are  checkmated  within  sight  of 
victory." 

"  You  do  not  blame  me  for  your  disappointment  ? 
You  concede  that  I  did  my  best  ?  " 


THE    CONQUERING    KING  337 

His  question  was  dispassionate.  She  answered  it 
with  generous  words,  but  without  enthusiasm. 

"  You  did  more  than  any  other  man  could  have  done. 
Indeed,  I  am  not  complaining  of  you;  I  am  complain- 
ing of  Fate." 

"  Personally,  I  have  a  pathetic  and  unconquerable 
confidence  in  Fate,"  he  retorted. 

"  You — yes.  But  what  is  my  position  ?  Bernhardt 
is  dead,  Matti  is  dead,  Karl  is  our  prisoner  only  so 
long  as  he  consents  to  be.  You  and  I  are  alone, — 
alone  in  the  dead  of  night,  in  a  land  of  snow  and  frost. 
We  must  find  shelter,  or  perish.  We  must  creep  down 
to  Riefinsdorf  for  a  night's  lodging,  for  the  road  to' 
Wallen  is  long  and  will  be  traversed,  for  a  certainty, 
by  our  pursuers.  Do  you  not  see  now  why  I  complain 
of  Fate?  Lying  slander  has  coupled  our  names  none 
too  pleasantly  before;  what  will  it  say  when  it  has 
visual  facts  instead  of  idle  gossip  to  build  upon?  " 

"  Slander  will  say  a  good  deal,"  he  replied,  "  but  if 
we  wish  to  give  it  the  lie,  the  register  of  the  Chapel 
Royal  can  always  retort  with  an  unanswerable 
argument." 

Gloria  said  nothing.  Moonlight,  which  is  infinitely 
more  beautifying  than  sunlight,  had  put  a  strange  fire 
into  her  eyes,  and  turned  her  flesh  to  clearest  ivory. 
Trafford,  had  he  been  a  heathen,  would  have  bowed 
down  and  worshipped,  so  goddess-like  was  her  still  pose, 
so  unearthly  the  cold,  soft  shadows  that  gave  roundness 
to  her  cheeks.  As  it  was,  he  held  his  breath  and 
clenched  his  hands  in  a  spasm  of  passionate  apprecia- 
tion. Was  ever  anything  so  fair  under  the  stars,  he 


338  GLORIA 

asked  himself? — did  ever  such  mystic  fire  burn  in  human 
eyes,  or  frosty  breath  issue  from  such  perfectly-shaped 
lips? 

In  another  instant,  however,  Trafford  unclasped  his 
hands,  and  his  fingers  trembled,  for  a  great  wrath  had 
suddenly  mastered  him  and  was  shaking  his  frame  as  a 
winter  tempest  shakes  the  dead  bough  of  a  blasted  tree. 
Gloria, — his  Gloria, — who  might  have  loved,  who  might 
have  fulfilled  the  mission  of  her  splendid  womanhood, 
had  fought  down  the  promptings  of  her  heart  and  given 
herself  to  ambition  and  the  deadening  lust  of  place  and 
power.  He  felt  an  almost  overpowering  desire  to  seize 
her  roughly  in  his  arms,  to  break  her  in  his  grasp,  to 
crush  the  supple  limbs  in  an  act  of  ferocious  but  just 
retribution.  Fortunately  his  brain  steadied  itself  in 
time,  the  mad  impulse  was  checked,  and, — as  was  the 
way  with  him, — the  paroxysm  gave  place  to  a  singu- 
larly clear  and  controlled  condition  of  mind. 

"  Your  Majesty,"  he  called  out  to  Karl,  who  was 
still  maintaining  a  recumbent  position  in  the  snow,  "  are 
you  sufficiently  recovered  from  your  various  mishaps 
to  join  us  here  on  the  path  and  discuss  the  situation?  " 

For  answer  Karl  struggled  to  his  feet  and  made 
towards  them.  He  appeared  very  pale  in  the  moon- 
light, but  there  was  the  same  look  in  his  eyes  as  when 
he  had  faced  the  rebel  throng  in  the  courtyard  of  the 
Neptunburg. 

"  You  perceive  our  difficulties,  of  course,"  Trafford 
began.  "  A  week  ago  we  set  out  from  Weidenbruck 
to  accomplish  a  certain  object:  that  object  was,  in 
plain  language,  to  wipe  you  off  the  earth,  or  bring  you 


THE   CONQUERING   KING  339 

back  bound  to  the  capital.  We  employed  open  force, 
and  failed.  We  employed  the  gentle  arts  of  abduction, 
and  succeeded — up  to  a  point." 

Karl  nodded.     "  I  follow  you,"  he  said  curtly. 

"  Our  motives  were  frankly  selfish,"  Trafford  went 
on.  "  The  favour  of  the  good  Weidenbruckers  had 
to  be  retained,  and  it  was  necessary  to  do  something 
notable  to  obtain  permanent  possession  of  their  good 
graces."  He  paused  a  moment,  toyed  with  his  revolver, 
and  looked  fixedly  at  Gloria  and  then  back  again  at 
Karl.  Then  he  went  on  deliberately :  "  If  we  return 
without  having  killed  or  captured  one,  Karl,  styling 
himself  King  of  Grimland,  we  shall  be  returning  to  a 
nest  of  hornets.  You  see  my  point?  " 

Karl  eyed  the  revolver  thoughtfully. 

"  Yes,  I  see  your  point,"  he  said ;  "  I  saw  it  long 
before  you  put  it  before  me.  Having  failed  to  abduct 
me,  only  one  course  is  open  to  you  Here  I  am,  un- 
armed, alone,  scarcely  recovered  from  an  anaesthetic, 
shaken  by  a  fall.  The  moon  gives  ample  light,  and 
your  revolver  is  loaded." 

"  Precisely,"  said  Trafford.  "  My  course  is  so 
obvious !  A  pressure  of  the  first  finger,  a  puff  of  smoke, 
and  a  brave  man  groaning  in  the  snow !  There  are  but 
two  objections:  firstly,  I  am  not  a  butcher;  secondly, 
you  took  it  upon  you  a  little  while  ago  to  defend  the 
honour  of  my  wife ! " 

"Your  wife?" 

"  Yes.  The  lady  who  is  now  more  or  less  disguised 
as  a  private  of  the  line,  did  me  the  honour  of  bestowing 
on  me  her  hand  in  the  Chapel  Royal  of  the  Neptunburg. 


340  GLORIA 

When  Bernhardt, — playing  his  part, — hinted  at  her 
shame,  your  kingly  spirit  refused  to  hear  ill  even  of  your 
enemy.  For  that, — if  for  no  other  reason, — I  am 
steering  clear  of  regicide." 

Karl  passed  his  hand  across  his  brow,  as  if  the  news 
was  too  much  for  his  dazed  senses. 

"  You  and  Gloria  von  Schattenberg  are  man  and 
wife?  "  he  gasped. 

"  On  paper,"  Trafford  affirmed,  "  on  paper  only.  In 
reality  we  are  nothing  to  each  other,  and  as  events  are 
turning  out,  never  will  be  anything  to  each  other. 
But_I  am  a  proud  man,  proud  of  the  secret  bond  be- 
tween us,  though  our  vows  were  meaningless  and  of  no 
value ;  and  because  you  took  it  upon  you  to  defend  the 
honour  of  my  *  paper '  spouse,  I  give  you  your  life 
and  wish  you  God-speed." 

Karl's  features  twitched  in  the  moonlight,  and  his 
breath  seemed  to  come  with  difficulty. 

"  You  are  a  generous  foeman,"  he  said  at  length. 

"  Not  more  so  than  yourself,"  Trafford  retorted. 
"  When  I, — also  playing  my  part, — swore  death  to  '  the 
cursed  American  Trafford,'  you  vowed  you  would  like 
me  for  a  guest,  with  whom  to  fight  old  battles  over  old 
Tokay.  I  am  fond  of  Tokay,"  Trafford  went  on,  "  and 
I  am  fond  of  reminiscences ;  also  I  know  a  man  when  I 
see  one.  Karl,  King  of  Grimland,  will  you  give  me 
your  hand?  " 

Karl  stretched  out  his  hand  and  gripped  the  other's. 
He  seemed  searching  for  words,  but  no  words  came. 

Trafford  read  many  things  in  the  labouring  chest 
and  the  dimmed  eye,  and  his  heart  kindled. 


THE   CONQUERING   KING  341 

"  You  call  me  generous,"  he  went  on,  "  but  I  am 
generous  with  another's  property.  Grimland  is  yours 
or  Gloria's ;  mine  it  never  was.  Fate  has  somehow  set 
me  as  umpire  in  a  great  quarrel;  and  being  holder  of 
the  scales  I  must  perforce  be  impartial.  Supposing  I 
trample  conscience  under  foot  and  do  a  nameless  deed 
under  the  moon :  suppose  we  return  to  Weidenbruck 
triumphant  as  Queen  and  consort,  what  then?  Bern- 
hardt,  who  understood  the  temper  of  the  Grimland 
canaille,  who  ruled  them  as  a  rough  huntsman  rules  a 
pack  of  hounds — Bernhardt  the  apostate,  the 
absintheur,  the  distorted  genius  whose  counsels  could 
alone  have  kept  us  in  power — is  no  more.  Matti  is 
dead — Matti  who,  as  city  prefect,  did  more  with  his 
reforming  zeal  to  make  the  name  of  Schattenberg  stink 
in  the  nostrils  of  the  citizens  than  any  enemy  could 
have  done.  Weidenbruck  is  yours  for  the  asking! 
The  nobility  were  never  against  you;  the  people  were 
ours  only  in  their  meaner  moments.  You  left  the 
capital  as  a  fugitive ;  you  will  return  as  conquerer,  and 
the  people  will  cry,  as  I  cry  now :  '  Long  live  Karl  the 
Twenty-second,  of  Grimland !  " 

Still  Karl  maintained  his  frozen  silence ;  not  a  muscle 
of  his  face  moved.  Only,  there  was  a  gleam  in  his  eyes 
that  seemed  to  look  beyond  the  stark  pine  trunks  and 
the  barren  fields  of  snow;  that  seemed  to  project  his 
vision  over  forty  leagues  of  hill  and  plain  to  the  turbu- 
lent city  on  the  Niederkessel,  where  a  shouting  throng 
acclaimed  him  as  their  King.  For  a  moment  his  whole 
face  lit  up  with  a  wonderful  glow,  and  then  his  emotion 
seemed  to  master  him.  He  was  a  strong  man,  but  he 


642  GLORIA 

had  been  through  much,  physically  and  mentally,  and 
the  last  sudden  vicissitude  of  his  fortunes  won  a  sharp 
reaction.  His  heart  beat  in  great  thuds,  and  the  stiff 
vertical  trunks  of  the  forest  pines  bent  and  swayed 
before  his  eyes.  He  leaned  against  a  big  tree  and 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

Trafford  turned  and  faced  Gloria.  He  expected  re- 
proaches, anger,  tears  of  despair.  He  had  given  away 
Tier  kingdom  to  her  enemy.  The  strong  plant  of  her 
ambition  he  had  cut  at  the  very  tap-root.  He  who, 
by  hardening  his  heart,  might  have  made  her  a  queen, 
had  preferred  by  an  act  of  mercy  to  make  her  a  fugi- 
tive !  He  steeled  himself  against  the  expected  hurricane 
of  bitterness.  He  looked,  and  as  he  looked  he  rubbed 
his  eyes  in  amazement.  The  face  of  Gloria  von  Schat- 
tenberg  was  the  face  he  had  seen  in  delirium  at  the  old 
house  at  Wallen, — the  face  of  a  woman  with  a  loving 
heart  and  a  soul  of  flame.  The  eyes  that  met  his  were 
bright  with  a  splendid  joy,  overflowing  with  a  great 
tenderness. 

"  Gloria ! " 

She  advanced  towards  him  with  outstretched  arms, 
a  smile  on  her  lips. 

He  seized  her  and  drew  her  to  him. 

"  Have  I  done  right  ?  "  he  whispered. 

"  Beloved,  a  thousand  times,  yes ! "  she  replied. 
"  To-night  I  see  things  truly,  and  I  shall  never  see  them 
otherwise.  You  have  conquered  me,  hypnotised  me,  as 
you  nearly  did  at  Wallen;  and  now  there  is  no  Bern- 
hardt  to  wake  me  from  my  sweet  dream.  The  glory 
of  a  man  is  his  strength  and  his  courage,  but  the  heart 


THE    CONQUERING    KING  343 

of  a  man  is  his  tenderness  and  his  mercy,  and  it  is  these 
that  have  prevailed  with  me." 

"  Herr  Trafford ! "  came  a  voice  from  the  big  pine- 
tree. 

"  Your  Majesty." 

"  I  am  going  to  make  my  way  back  to  Weissheim. 
May  I  ask  what  you  propose  doing?  " 

Trafford  hesitated. 

"  About  that  I  must  consult  the  Princess,"  he  said 
at  length. 

"  I  am  going  where  my  husband  goes,"  said  Gloria, 
"  and  I  am  doing  what  my  husband  decides  to  do." 

"  Then  we  will  make  for  Riefinsdorf,"  said  Trafford. 
"  To-morrow,  early,  we  will  get  a  smith  to  mend  our 
shattered  '  bob,'  and  before  the  sun  has  climbed  above 
the  shoulder  of  the  Klauigberg  we  will  be  scudding 
down  the  King's  highway,  *  Youth  at  the  prow  and 
pleasure  at  the  helm.'  " 

"  Towards  Wallen?  "  asked  Karl. 

"  Towards  Austria,"  corrected  Trafford.  "  The 
road  forks  at  Winterthurm,  and  we  take  the  southern 
branch.  The  Rylvio  Pass  is  steep,  and  six  hours' 
coasting  should  bring  us  to  the  frontier." 

"  Needless  to  say,  you  need  fear  no  pursuit,"  said 
Karl,  "  but  when  will  you  return  ?  You  have  to  be 
my  guest  at  the  Brunvarad  and  drink  my  wine.  That 
is  part  of  the  bargain." 

Trafford  smiled. 

"  It  may  come  to  that,  some  day,"  he  said.  "  Things 
move  quickly  in  Grimland.  But  the  time  is  not  yet." 
He  paused,  and  then  went  on:  "  Your  Majesty  has  had 


344  GLORIA 

an  eventful  winter.  You  have  lost  a  throne  and  re- 
gained it,  I  believe,  more  firmly  than  before.  That  is, 
in  allegory,  the  case  with  me  " — he  took  the  Princess's 
hand  in  his — "  and  I  am  well  content." 

Karl  gazed  At  the  happy  pair.  Slowly  a  wonderful 
smile  spread  itself  over  his  face,  and  his  eyes  shone 
through  a  veil  of  moisture.  He  seized  Trafford's  hand 
and  gripped  it  almost  violently. 

"  Good-bye,  brave  and  generous  enemy ! "  he  said ; 
"  Good-bye,  friend  that  is  to  be,  that  must  be,  that 
shall  be ! "  He  turned  to  the  Princess,  took  her  in 
his  big  arms,  and  kissed  her  on  both  cheeks.  "  Good- 
bye, little  cousin !  "  he  said.  "  You  are  wise  and  happy 
in  your  choice.  You  have  abjured  a  troubled  throne 
for  a  kingdom  of  peace  and  heart's  ease.  You  are  my 
kinswoman  in  more  than  blood, — for  you  have  given 
yourself  to  the  man  whom  I  am  proud  to  call  friend." 

He  turned  and  walked  up  the  path  as  one  in  a  dream. 
For  a  moment  he  staggered  in  his  gait ;  but  he  stooped 
down  and  rubbed  some  snow  on  his  forehead,  and  went 
on  steadily  up  the  hill  towards  Weissheim. 

Gloria  and  Trafford  stood  watching  him  till  he  dis- 
appeared from  view. 

A  little  sob  broke  from  the  Princess.  Then  she  put 
her  hand  in  Trafford's,  and  together  they  set  out 
towards  Riefinsdorf. 


CHAPTER  THIRTY-THREE 

THE    LOST    SHEEP 

IN  the  small  hours  of  the  morning,  a  party  of  half  a 
dozen  men  on  skis  issued  from  the  courtyard  of  the 
Brunvarad.  They  were  weary-looking  folk,  dull-eyed 
and  taciturn,  and  without  a  word  they  set  themselves 
in  motion  along  the  road  to  Riefinsdorf.  The  remains 
of  a  huge  bonfire  glowed  dully  by  the  roadside,  and  a 
pillar  of  black  smoke  streamed  straight  up  into  the 
windless  air.  Where  the  snow  had  thawed  in  a  circle 
round  the  once  festive  blaze  it  had  frozen  again  into 
lumps  of  discoloured  ice.  Dark,  recumbent  forms 
showed  here  and  there  in  the  snow,  heavy  breathing 
wretches  who  had  gone  to  sleep,  warmed  with  abundant 
wine  and  the  glowing  flames,  but  who  would  wake  in 
the  morn  to  the  misery  of  frost-bite  and  its  attendant 
horrors.  But  the  little  group  of  ski-ers  had  no  thought 
for  such  as  these,  and  they  passed  them  by  with  scarce 
a  glance.  Onward  they  went  without  a  word,  till 
Meyer  tripped  up  over  a  sleeping  form  in  the  roadway, 
and  broke  the  silence  with  a  bitter  curse,  as  he  dragged 
himself  to  his  feet. 

"Why  don't  you  go  home,  Meyer?"  suggested 
Saunders,  "  you  are  fagged  out,  and  we  may  have  to 
sprint  later  on." 

"  If  Bilderbaum  can  go  on,  I  can  go  on,"  said  the 
Commander-in-Chief  irritably.  "  He  is  ten  years  older 
than  I  am." 

345 


346  GLORIA 

"  Five,"  corrected  the  General  snappishly. 

"  The  pursuit  is  farcical,"  said  Meyer.  "  It  would 
have  been  useless  if  we  had  undertaken  it  at  once.  At 
this  hour  it  is  a  piece  of  ludicrous  folly." 

"You  need  not  come,"  snapped  Saunders,  who,  like 
the  others,  seemed  to  be  in  the  worst  of  humours. 

"  Thanks,"  retorted  Meyer.  "  We  must  play  the 
game  to  its  weary  end.  We  have  shown  ourselves  fools, 
and  the  least  part  of  our  penalty  is  a  sleepless  night 
after  a  restless  day." 

"  We  may  overtake  them  yet,"  said  Captain  Lexa, 
who,  with  two  of  his  riflemen,  made  up  the  little  party. 

"  Impossibilities  seem  possibilities  only  to  geniuses 
and  fools,"  said  Meyer  rudely.  "  It  is  hardly  neces- 
sary to  state  to  which  category  we  belong." 

"  While  there  is  life  there  is  hope,"  maintained  Lexa 
stubbornly. 

Meyer  made  an  exclamation  of  contempt. 

"  Supposing  the  miracle  is  realised,"  he  said,  "  and 
the  slower  catches  the  swifter,  even  then  they  will  cer- 
tainly outwit  us  again.  In  the  proverb  the  tor- 
toise caught  the  hare — but  then  the  tortoise  had 
brains." 

Meyer's  sarcasm  had  anything  but  a  cheering  effect 
on  the  dismal  spirits  of  the  company. 

"  To  think  of  our  never  recognising  them ! "  said 
Saunders  bitterly.  "  To  think  of  Trafford  fooling 
us " 

"  Oh,  Trafford  has  imagination  and  initiative,  in 
strong  contradistinction  to  ourselves ! "  interrupted 
Meyer.  "  He  has  fooled  us  before  and  he  would  fool 


THE   LOST    SHEEP  347 

us  again  twenty  times  if  twenty  opportunities  were 
offered  him.  We  are  not  very  clever  people,  my  dear 
Saunders." 

"  If  we  are  ever  to  catch  them,"  said  Lexa,  "  it 
must  be  by  taking  every  short  cut  that  offers  itself. 
The  road  to  Wallen  winds  round  in  and  out  of  the 
mountains,  and  our  only  chance  of  overtaking  the 
fugitives  is  to  go  straight  up  hill  and  down  dale,  no 
matter  how  steep  and  difficult  the  track." 

Meyer  groaned.  His  legs  were  aching  intolerably, 
and  the  thought  of  breasting  a  steep  ascent  on  skis 
almost  overwhelmed  his  flagging  spirit.  No  one,  how- 
ever, answered  his  groan  with  another  suggestion  that 
he  should  go  back.  The  Jew  had  expressed  his  deter- 
mination to  go  on  to  the  bitter  end,  and  nothing 
but  complete  physical  collapse  would  stop  him.  They 
glissaded  swiftly  and  almost  recklessly  down  the  hill- 
side, and  the  rush  of  keen  air  somewhat  quickened 
their  flagging  energies. 

"  Bend  to  the  left ! "  called  out  Saunders,  himself 
executing  a  fine  "  Christiania  swing,"  and  thereby  just 
saving  himself  from  charging  the  snow-wall  that  banked 
the  bob-sleigh  run.  The  others  swung  round  at  his 
call,  and  for  a  time  proceeded  parallel  to  the  track 
at  a  reduced  speed. 

"  Man  ahead ! "  called  out  Saunders  presently ;  and 
true  enough  a  dark  object  was  advancing  slowly 
towards  them  up  the  path  bordering  the  run.  The 
two  soldiers  cuddled  their  rifles  suggestively,  and  the 
others  proceeded  at  an  even  pace  towards  the  strange 
walker  of  the  night. 


848  GLORIA 

"  A  wounded  soldier  finding  his  way  back,"  sug- 
gested Lexa. 

"  He  may  be  able  to  give  us  information,"  said  Von 
Bilderbaum. 

"  Or  he  may  be  going  to  shoot  us,"  said  Meyer, 
prepared  as  usual  for  the  worst.  "  Hands  up,  man," 
he  called  nervously,  "  or  we  fire ! " 

The  man  slowly  raised  his  hands  above  his  head, 
and  continued  to  plod  wearily  up  the  path  towards 
them.  In  the  vague  moonlight  the  newcomer  seemed 
of  gigantic  stature,  and  his  soundless  footsteps  sug- 
gested a  being  from  another  world.  On  he  came  with 
upraised  arms  and  bent  head,  and  then  suddenly  he 
lifted  his  face  so  that  the  rays  of  the  sinking  moon 
fell  full  upon  it. 

Lexa  uttered  a  cry,  but  the  others  stood  still  in 
frozen  silence,  believing  they  dreamed.  Then  old  Bild- 
erbaum called  out  hoarsely  to  the  soldiers,  "  Present 
arms ! "  and  himself  stood  stiffly  at  the  salute. 

"  Must  I  continue  to  hold  my  hands  in  the  air?  " 
asked  Karl.  "  I  am  very  tired." 

"Your  Majesty!"  gasped  Saunders. 

"  Good-evening,  gentlemen,"  said  the  King,  at 
length  lowering  his  arms.  "  This  is  an  unexpected 
pleasure.  You  are  indefatigable." 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Meyer  yawning ;  "  we  are  ex- 
ceedingly tired.  But  as  I  have  been  constantly  re- 
minding my  comrades, — almost  to  the  point  of  bore- 
Bom, — we  are  a  pack  of  fools  and  must  pay  for  our 
Sfolly  by  the  inconvenience  of  a  night  in  the  snow." 

"  If  you  are  fools,"  said  Karl,  "  I  am  the  king  of 


THE   LOST    SHEEP  349 

fools.  But  at  least  there  is  something  noble  in  your 
folly,  if  it  leads  you  from  warmth  and  shelter  to  a 
hopeless  search  over  a  snow-bound  countryside." 

"  But  you  have  escaped,  sire?  "  said  Bilderbaum. 

"  Yes  and  no,"  replied  Karl.  "  When  the  grand 
coup  occurred  on  the  bob-sleigh  run  I  was  partially 
stupefied  by  the  fumes  of  chloroform.  I  quickly  re- 
covered, however,  from  its  effects,  and  was  even  be- 
ginning to  appreciate  the  fascinations  of  a  moonlight 
abduction  when  an  accident  occurred  to  the  sleigh." 

"  You  were  hurt  ?  "  inquired  Saunders   anxiously. 

"  No ;  I  fell  on  my  head — which  is  vastly  harder 
than  the  snow." 

"  What  happened,  sire?  "  asked  Lexa. 

And  then  the  King  went  on  to  tell  that  when 
Trafford  enfiladed  Saunders'  trench  with  curling- 
stones  he  had  won  the  first  trick  in  the  game  and  un- 
wittingly lost  the  last.  That  the  stones  went  gaily 
down  the  bob-sleigh  run  en  route  for  Riefinsdorf,  and 
might  have  gone  Heaven  knows  where  had  not  a  sub- 
sidence of  snow,  caused  doubtless  by  the  reverberation 
of  the  guns,  blocked  the  track.  "  The  snow  held  the 
stones  up,"  he  concluded,  "  and  the  Providence,  which 
manages  the  unstable  affairs  of  kings  and  tobogganers, 
arranged  that  our  runners  should  strike  a  large  pink 
stone  with  a  blue  ribbon  on  it." 

"  Splendid ! "  cried  Bilderbaum  enthusiastically. 
"  The  *  bob  '  was  wrecked,  and  the  Princess  and  Traf- 
ford being  stunned  or  disabled,  you  escaped  from 
their  clutches." 

"  Your  imagination  does   you   infinite  credit,  Gen- 


350  GLORIA 

eral,"  said  Karl  dryly,  "  but  it  outruns  fact.  No  one 
was  stunned  or  disabled;  of  the  three,  I  was  distinctly 
the  most  shaken." 

«  But  how " 

"  The  situation  was  simple,"  said  Karl.  "  The  ( bob,' 
as  you  surmise,  was  wrecked.  My  abduction,  there- 
fore, was  rendered  abortive.  There  were  only  two 
courses  open  to  my  enemies — to  kill  me  and  make  their 
way  on  foot  to  Wallen,  where  their  friends  were  await- 
ing them,  or  to  set  me  free  and  themselves  fly  the  coun- 
try. Those  of  you  who  know  Traff ord  and  his  charm- 
ing wife " 

"  Wife !  "  interrupted  Saunders. 

"  Yes,"  affirmed  Karl ;  "  the  Princess  Gloria  was 
secretly  married  some  days  ago  to  your  friend  Traf- 
ford  in  the  Chapel  Royal  of  the  Neptunburg.  They 
are  a  healthy-minded  couple,  and  they  refused  to  en- 
tertain seriously  the  idea  of  murder." 

"They  set  you  free!"  ejaculated  Saunders.  "Well 
done,  Nervy  Trafford!  I  am  not  so  ashamed  of  my 
friend  after  all." 

"  He  is  a  splendid  fellow,"  said  Karl,  "  and  incident- 
ally, my  cousin  by  marriage.  'I  assure  you  I  for  my 
part  am  not  ashamed  of  the  relationship." 

"  But  where  are  they  now?  "  asked  Meyer. 

"  They  are — where  they  are.  They  are  free  to  leave 
the  country  without  let  or  hindrance.  When  things 
are  quieted  down  and  I  am  firmly  in  the  saddle  again, 
they  can  come  back  in  their  true  capacity — as  my 
friends." 

"  We  shall  not  have  to  wait  long,  sire,"  said  Meyer 


THE    LOST    SHEEP  351 

with  an  unwonted  note  of  jubilation  in  his  voice.  "  Even 
before  yesterday's  battle  the  tide  was  running  strongly 
for  you  at  the  capital.  Henceforth  Weidenbruck  and 
the  whole  country  will  be  loyal.  Long  live  Karl  the 
Twenty-second  of  Grimland !  " 

"  Long  live  Karl ! "  echoed  Saunders,  Von  Bilder- 
baum,  and  Lexa.  "  Long  live  Karl ! "  reiterated  the 
riflemen,  raising  their  shakos  aloft  on  their  musket 
barrels. 

Karl  stood  still,  with  eyes  that  swam.  He  began 
to  speak,  but  ended  with  a  shake  of  his  head,  as  if 
something  had  choked  him. 

"  To-morrow,  dear  friends,"  he  muttered  very  low. 
"  To-morrow.  To-night  I  am  tired,  very  tired  and 
very  happy.  Long  live  George  Trafford  and  his  beau- 
tiful bride !  "  he  said  in  stronger  tones.  "  God  bless 
them!  God  bless  our  poor  country!  God  help  me  to 
rule  " — but  his  voice  had  sunk  again  to  a  whisper  and 
as  he  spoke  he  reeled  against  Saunders. 

The  latter  held  the  massive  but  limp  frame  from 
falling,  while  someone  produced  brandy  from  a  flask 
and  poured  a  generous  measure  down  the  King's  throat. 
Then  the  soldiers  made  a  seat  of  their  crossed  weapons, 
and  shoulder-high  and  supported  by  willing  arms, 
Karl  of  Grimland  was  borne,  half-fainting  with  ex- 
posure and  fatigue,  but  serene  of  mind,  to  the  winter 
palace  of  his  beloved  Weissheim. 


EPILOGUE 

DOWN  the  great,  white  highway  of  the  Rylvio  Pass 
a  bob-sleigh  was  speeding  in  the  early  hours  of  a 
perfect  morning.  The  incense  of  dawn  was  in  the 
air,  and  the  magic  of  stupendous  scenery  uplifted  the 
souls  of  the  two  travellers.  Fantastic  peaks  of  in- 
comparable beauty  rose  up  in  majesty  to  meet  the 
amazing  turquoise  of  the  heavens.  Sparkling  cas- 
cades of  dazzling  whiteness  hung  in  streams  of  frozen 
foam  from  dun  cliffs  and  larch-crowned  boulders.  The 
roadway  down  which  the  sleigh  was  coursing  with  un- 
checked speed  wound  like  a  silver  ribbon  at  the  edge 
of  precipices,  sometimes  tunnelling  through  an  arch 
of  brown  rock,  only  to  give  again,  after  a  moment's 
gloom,  a  fresh  expanse  of  argent  domes  and  shim- 
mering declivities.  Perched  high  on  perilous  crags 
were  ancient  castles  of  grim  battlements  and  enduring 
masonry,  stubborn  homes  of  a  stubborn  nobility  that 
had  levied  toll  in  olden  times  on  all  such  as  passed 
their  inhospitable  walls.  Below,  in  the  still  shadowed 
valley,  were  villages  of  tiny  houses,  the  toy  campanili 
of  Lilliputian  churches,  and  a  grey-green  river  rushing 
over  a  stony  bed  to  merge  itsef  in  the  ampler  flood  of 
the  Danube. 

"  Oh,  could  anything  be  more  perfect  ? "  asked 
Gloria,  who,  as  on  the  previous  night,  was  doing  duty 
at  the  wheel.  There  was  a  flush  on  her  cheeks  that 
was  a  tribute  to  the  keen  mountain  air,  and  a  sparkle 

352 


EPILOGUE  355 

in  her  dark  eyes  that  told  of  welling  happiness  and  a 
splendid  conscious  joy.  Radiant  as  the  morn,  fra- 
grant as  the  pine-laden  air,  she  seemed  the  embodi- 
ment of  a  hundred  vitalities  crowded  into  one  blithe 
being. 

"  We  are  on  our  honeymoon,"  returned  Trafford, 
"  and  it  would  be  a  cold,  dank  day  that  could  depress 
my  soaring  spirits.  As  it  is,  the  impossible  beauty 
of  our  surroundings  is  so  intoxicating  my  bewildered 
brain  that  I  am  neglecting  my  duties  as  brakesman 
in  a  most  alarming  manner.  We  shall  be  over  a 
precipice  in  a  minute,  if  I  don't  master  my  exaltation 
of  spirits." 

"  Perfect  love  casteth  out  fear,"  laughed  Gloria. 

"  Is  it  perfect  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Absolutely — now,  dear,"  she  replied.  *'  From  the 
first  you  captured  my  fancy;  that  was  why  I  did  not 
lie  to  you  in  Herr  Krantz's  wine-shop.  Then,  when 
I  thought  you  had  killed  Karl  in  the  Iron  Maiden,  my 
heart  grew  sick  and  cold,  for  I  believed  you  were,  as 
the  others,  without  ruth  or  mercy.  The  news  that 
you  had  saved  his  life  while  pretending  to  take  it,  put 
new  fire  into  my  soul ;  but  there  was  ever  a  war  in  my 
breast  between  true  tenderness  and  the  lust  of  power. 
I  had  inherited  ambition  from  a  long  line  of  callous 
ancestors ;  my  whole  life  had  been  a  tale  of  scheming, 
deadening  opportunism.  And  Bernhardt,  as  we  know, 
with  his  great  domineering  personality,  was  as  death 
to  sentiment.  And  then,  last  night,  well,  you  took 
the  bit  between  your  teeth  and  let  yourself  go.  You 
over-rode  my  will,  you  set  at  nought  my  interests :  you 


354,  GLORIA 

were  master,  and  I  handmaid,  and  my  whole  soul  went 
out  to  you  in  admiration  of  your  strength,  and  love 
of  the  way  you  used  it." 

Trafford  drank  in  the  words  as  he  drank  in  the 
clear,  sweet  air  of  the  mountain-side,  and  happiness 
— the  heroic  happiness  that  befel  poets  and  warriors 
in  the  days  of  the  world's  youth,  when  men  were  demi- 
gods and  gods  were  demi-mortals — took  him  with 
golden  wings  and  exalted  him,  so  that  the  soaring 
mountain  and  the  wheeling  bird  and  the  forest  and  the 
crag  and  the  river  were  as  his  brothers  and  sisters,  fel- 
low members  of  the  worshipful  company  of  rejoicing 
creation. 

Onward  and  downward  they  flew,  while  the  beams 
of  the  rising  sun  climbed  down  the  valley  walls,  ledge 
by  ledge  and  rock  by  rock,  turning  brown  cliffs  to 
gold,  and  snowy  slopes  to  diamond  and  silver.  Already 
they  were  far  below  the  supreme  height  of  the  Weiss- 
heim  plateau,  and  the  air,  dry  though  it  was  in  reality, 
seemed  almost  damp  in  comparison  after  the  moisture- 
less  atmosphere  of  the  lofty  tableland  they  had  quitted. 
The  snow  held  everywhere,  but  it  was  the  thin  cover- 
ing of  an  English  hill-side  in  January,  not  the  sumptu- 
ous and  universal  mantle  of  frost-bound  Weissheim. 
The  larch  and  fir  of  the  uplands  were  giving  gradual 
place  to  the  stunted  oak  and  the  starved  chestnut.  A 
thin  hedge  maintained  a  scrubby,  struggling  line  at 
the  edge  of  the  roadside,  and  on  the  southern  slopes 
the  fields  were  furrowed  in  endless  terraces  for  the  vine. 

"  We  shall  reach  the  frontier  in  an  hour,"  said  Traf- 
ford. 


EPILOGUE  355 

"And  then?" 

w  Then  we  must  quit  our  faithful  *  bob.'  The  road 
ceases  to  run  downhill  at  Morgenthal,  and  a  bob-sleigh 
will  not  defy  the  laws  of  gravity  even  for  the  happiest 
couple  in  Christendom." 

"  Then  what  are  our  plans  ?  "  asked  Gloria. 

"  Plans ! "  he  echoed ;  "  we  have  no  plans.  The  poor, 
the  unhappy,  and  the  hungry  have  plans,  for  they 
must  scheme  to  improve  their  condition.  But  you  and 
I  are  rich  in  every  gift,  and  life  will  be  one  delicious 
and  unending  bob-sleigh  ride  through  gorgeous  scenery 
and  vitalising  air." 

The  Princes  sighed  Juxuriously.  Then,  after  a 
pause — 

"  We  must  reach  the  valley  some  day,"  she  said. 

"  Some  day,  yes,"  he  acquiesced.  "  Some  day  the 
ride  will  be  done,  and  the  road  end  in  the  great  shadows 
which  no  human  eye  can  pierce.  But  that  day  will 
find  us  hand  in  hand,  with  no  fear  in  our  hearts,  and 
ready  for  a  longer,  stranger,  and  even  more  beautiful 
journey." 

As  he  spolce  the  valley  widened  out,  and  the  hills  on 
either  side  receded  at  a  broad  angle.  The  roofs  of 
Morgenthal  were  plain  to  their  gaze,  and  the  tinkling 
of  goats'  bells  broke  the  silence. 

"  Austria !  "  cried  Gloria. 

"  Austria,  Vienna,  Paris,  London,"  he  said,  "  South- 
ampton, and  then  the  very  first  boat  bound  for  little 
old  New  York.  But  in  our  hearts  Grimland — always 
Grimland." 


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